Being first-generation Greek- American, I was raised strict and ethnic. My heritage streaked throughout my American upbringing like veins in a slab of thick marble. A mottled mix of English and Greek slang ping-ponged back and forth across our dinner table, old relatives with heavy accents, bottles of Ouzo, and big Sunday meals together.
Needless to say, my heritage has always been an important facet of my life.
My father was from the island of Naxos, a small village called Galyni. If you’ve read Pretty Reckless, Kat’s love/hate relationship with her own father runs a seamless parallel to the one I had with mine but, like Kat, I choose to remember the good stuff. Imperfections aside, I am who I am today because of him, and I'm proud of where I come from.
This Christmas, I was given the greatest gift. My amazing husband is taking me to the motherland. A once in a lifetime trip to Greece so I can see first hand where my family comes from. I was shocked, amazed, and may or may have not cried a bit. (And by 'a bit', I mean saltwater rivulets running down my cheeks like a crazy person.)
I lost my dad in 1999, but wherever he is, I know he was smiling down on me Christmas morning.