Three generations of women. Three moments in time. Each of us 20 years old. My Nonna. My mother. Me. The settings changed. The clothes evolved. The world spun faster. But the essence? That stayed. You can see it in the eyes the quiet defiance, the softness edged with steel, the unspoken vow to carry on, no matter what. To protect what matters. To show up, even when it hurts. My Nonna left everything she knew behind to build a life from scratch. My mother raised children while working full-time and aging gracefully without a roadmap. And me? I’m carving a new path while carrying their old world in my bones. In every pot of sauce I stir, in every decision I make, they are there. Not ghosts guides. We come from a lineage of women who held families together with their hands, who carried grief in one pocket and hope in the other, who didn’t wait for the world to be gentle they became the gentleness. They became the strength. And here I am a living thread in their tapestry. A continuation of their magic, their resilience, their story. This is what I come from. This is what I carry forward.