Italo-tedeschi
In northern Germany, some evenings have a special quality about them – a soft warmth, that lingers until late at night. These evenings are rare, so people treasure them, sitting outside – usually next to a barbecue with sausages and grilled vegetables. My mother, however, was relentless about punctual bedtimes, especially on school nights, no matter how nice the weather or how interesting the TV show. Maybe that is why a specific evening has stuck with me. A rather acquiescent child, I remember asking her if it was not time for bed by now – and her replying that tonight, I got to stay up longer. Across the table from us sat my grandfather, whom I called nonno. That evening, he was in an unusually talkative mood, speaking of the past. I no longer remember what he said, or how his voice sounded, but I remember listening astutely.
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