Waiting at Sydney airport at 4.30 in the morning. All is quiet, the hurly burley of organising passports, papers toothbrush is now all over .
As we wait, I reflect on the farewells with our respective parents. Paul's mother, stoic as ever wished us a safe trip and gave us some minties for the flight.
My father, who is fighting cancer and not that well, cried and was really worried he would die while I was away. My mother was worried that I would die. An emotional scene. I love being Italian.
As we wait, I reflect on the farewells with our respective parents. Paul's mother, stoic as ever wished us a safe trip and gave us some minties for the flight.
My father, who is fighting cancer and not that well, cried and was really worried he would die while I was away. My mother was worried that I would die. An emotional scene. I love being Italian.
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