Published with permission from Marc Knight.

As I met family I had heard about but never met. I was treated like they had known me forever and whilst they knew I existed they didn’t really know me? That did not seem to matter however, as their willingness to accept me unconditionally was just humbling.
I only got to spend a few short days with these people but I knew that something had changed in me I had finally understood the real meaning of family.

Marc’s Italian Story

Could things get any better? Could April 2014 be any more memorable?

I had just spent an amazing few weeks in Turkey fulfilling a life time dream of visiting Gallipolli the excitement of that time was still occupying my thoughts but as I struggled to sleep on the night of 27 April, 2014 I knew that something special was still to come.
When the alarm sounded at 3.30am I bounded out of bed. I had probably only slept a short time but the adventure that was a head of me was foremost in my mind. I remember the mix of emotions I felt excitement, trepidation and fear.
Boarding the Ailtalia flight to Rome I knew that this was real that surreal feeling I had been feeling was now turning into reality.

I was going home!

For some the concept of a 48 year old man who was born in Australia to and Italian mother and Australian father saying he is going home might sound strange but for me, from an early age I always knew that something was missing for me. I recalled my University studies on Ethnicity and that line I once read that said that you can deny who you are but your make up will never let you deny your ethnicity. I knew this was true for me, I always considered myself to be Italian.

Flying into Rome my adventure was just beginning. It would involve several hours of waiting around, testing my limited grasp of the Italian language and teaching me that in Italy you must be prepared for anything that happens. Jumping on a train in Rome I headed for Arezzo, a town in the province of Tuscany, wow this was really getting real.

As I got off the train I saw a man I immediately recognised from photographs.

He was my cousin.

It did not matter that we had never met before, we just embraced. Distance and unfamiliarity did not matter we knew that one thing united us and that was we were family.
The next few days were filled with excitement as I met family I had heard about but never met. I was treated like they had known me forever and whilst they knew I existed they didn’t really know me? That did not seem to matter however, as their willingness to accept me unconditionally was just humbling. I only got to spend a few short days with these people but I knew that something had changed in me I had finally understood the real meaning of family.

To be accepted unconditionally just simply because you are family.
So I now understand a few things. I know my thoughts of being Italian are correct. I am Italian because my family are Italian and I know that I will always treasure the time I had and that I will be back to see them all very soon.

Stay tuned for more of Marc’s Italian Adventure. You can read more HERE