Too many memories, so I'll list the one's closest to my heart:
While in elementary school my' nonno' and 'nonna' would pick me up after school. EVERY DAY after crawling into the back seat nonna would turn around and hand me a salami sandwich, neatly wrapped in a paper towel, and a cup of Kool-Aide.
Taking frequent trips to Coquina Beach where nonna and I would capture coquina's, bring them home and boil them for her spaghetti sauce.
Picking clams under the bridge off Palma Sola Bay.
Spending nights as a child on a pull-out couch near the kitchen. Before the sun would rise you could hear nonna in the kitchen making coffee and the smell was amazing.
Always running around my grandparents house and being mischievous. As a result nonno would chase after me with his belt while calling me "il diavolo". Although that belt never found my backside it sure did scare me. As such I ran circles around nonna's legs as she laughed hysterically while "protecting" me.
Her homemade Italian cooking and hearing her say, "mangia...mangia" repeatedly.
Our trip to Italy in 1994 to meet my "famiglia Italiana" for the first time. I will forever be grateful to her for connecting me with them. They are much loved!
Taking her to St. Martha's Catholic Church in downtown Sarasota for a special mass spoken entirely in Italian. Her eyes lit up as the priests preached in her native tongue. She was so focused, listening intensely and laughing whenever the priest said something humorous.
There are other memories but I'll keep those for me.
Ti amo, nonna!