I felt loved and treasured growing up in an Italian family. My parents were born in Italy and that meant living the Italian Life, which always represented: style, kindness and impeccable manners, When they dressed for 'going out' to the Harbor Lights Supper Club, in Galesburg, 10 miles north of our town, Abingdon--would it be dinner or dancing or both, they looked like movie stars to us. Her favorite evening dress for dinner was a black, long sleeve satin dress, pencil skirt below the knee, with lace detail on the bodice, we knew there would be dancing if she added the black lace over-skirt, tied with a small satin band at the waist. Our handsome father always dressed in a smart suit, white shirt and tie, holding our mother's arm as they walked down the stairs; her red lips smiling at us, her dark hair perfectly styled after being in pin curls all day--meeting us in the foyer, gliding past us, out the front door, across the porch and down the stairs to the car. My two older sisters and I followed, waving good bye as they pulled out of the drive.
