On Father's Day, we went up to see my Grandpa up near Teaneck. When we got there, we got into the car and went to the Bronx for a lick of history.
We went to a cemetery where my great-and great-great-grandfathers were buried.
Heres was the list of people there,
Vito, b.1864 d.1915
Anthony, b.1905 d.1992
Vito, b. 1932
Rich, b. 1958
James (mwa!), b. 1998
It was kinda emotional, but sometimes in life that happens.
Also my great-grandmother Louisa (her name is really much more italian, trust me)
was there, who was the only person I knew that was deceased, one of the most solid memories in my memory is seeing her in the Hospital, not knowing she was to die in that same hospital a few days later. She died 2002.

After that we saw the house my Dad grew up in in the Bronx, and then went back to my Grandpa's house for Pasta.