Information over Italian Dinner

We never talk about it.

So when my Dad starts spilling information about his side of the family

left and right over dinner

It’s only natural that you drop everything and listen up.

I know everything about my Mom’s side.

I can tell you where her parents we born and raised,

And where their parents were born and raised,

And so on.

But with my Dad,

It’s a little different.

I try not to let the lack of information bother me,

But it does.

And when he starts talking about my grandfather and how he grew up

It’s another reminder that I’m not whole.

He talks like its common knowledge,

Like we have always known that our grandfather was the youngest of 10 siblings

And was practically raised by his two older sisters.

My Dad lists off names left and right

Expecting a spark of recognition to light up within us;

Uncle Tony

Uncle Frank

Aunt Mary

My brother and I can only sit there are drink it all in.

Who knows when he’ll talk of it again

And we’ll certainly never ask him.

And I’m sure a lot of people wouldn’t be bothered by the fact

 that they don’t know any of these people who died

long before they were even a thought in their parents minds.

But as he talks

My stomach drops

And I just want to cry.

I feel robbed.

I feel like this information is a part of the puzzle

that is my very existence

and I’ll never unlock it fully

because my Dad will never speak up.

It’s a part of his past that is painful to remember

And it’s a part of my history that is ever more painful

Not to know.

How can we be whole

If we don’t know the entire story?

I grew up thinking my father was one of three

When really he was the only one.

The woman my brother and I called Grandma

Married into the family.

My Dad’s mother left him when he was young.

And I hate knowing that.

I hate asking about that.

Is it really right for me to cause him pain

Just to ease my own?

And as he finishes the story

I put my fork down

And wonder when the next one will come.

I’m scared it will come too soon.

I’m scared it never will.