You can take the boy out of Rhode Island…

My family moved from Rhode Island to Florida when I was a small child. While I’m sure there were several reasons for the move, my dad, understandably, hates the cold. My grandfather on my mom’s side did too (he and my grandma ‘Mem’ moved down to Florida before us) and as the story goes, he grabbed a snow shovel and declared that they would drive south until someone said “what the hell is that thing?” Hello, Delray Beach.

I’m quite happy to have grown up a Floridian, but it’s nice to go back to your roots. On a trip like this one where I’m interacting and relying on so many strangers, it was an especially welcome change of pace to sit down with familiar faces, share an Easter meal with family, and re-experience some old favorites.

Here’s a rundown of what my life was like on the Rhode:

Sunday morning I drove from New Jersey to just over the Connecticut/Rhode Island border, where a handful of Bernasconi’s live in a town called Ashaway. The house in the photo is where my dad grew up, and right across the street is where my aunt lives, and that is where we convened for Easter lunch.

New England clam chowder, clam cakes and a lobster roll were on the menu the next day. After lunch I met up with Jason Rego to find out more about Providence City FC.

I refrained from taking many photos or posting much on social media because, at the end of the day, I wanted to have time with family that I haven’t seen in some time. So I did just that.