Our spaghetti and meatballs Fridays have become one of the traditions I treasure most. Every week the three of us make the whole meal from scratch, and the recipe changes a little each time as we test ideas and laugh our way through the steps. Sydney, you always guard the pot with full focus, keeping every bit of spice far away, while Juniper and I quietly try to slip some back in whenever you look the other way.

We even looked up the official Bolognese recipe from Bologna and gave it our best shot, standing together at the stove like a tiny kitchen team. And every Friday, your Nana’s favorite Italian music plays in the background, filling the house with that warm, familiar sound that always makes the evening feel cozy.

Sometimes we share those dinners with friends on the boat or at the mountain house, but the nights I remember most are the quiet ones. It is just us at the table, talking, tasting, and eating something we made with our own hands. Those evenings feel steady and good, and they stay with me in a simple, lasting way.