When I say home I mean Boston, not my actual home. I could never be homesick since I don’t exactly have the best ‘home’ memories what with all the fighting and drama that took place there almost daily. But I definitely miss Boston, the North End, Newbury Street, Trident Cafe with its perpetual breakfast, Steve’s Greek-American restaurant where I waitressed, Arnold Arboretum with its trees and pond and flowers and Jamaica Pond where my best friend Eleni and I would go for our weekly walks and analyze almost everything. I even miss Jamaica Plain with its Cuban Restaurants and rainbow flags. I miss Dedham, too. On Sundays, before the purchase of the pizza shop and the ‘new’ house, my dad would take my mom and me after church service was over to Dedham House of Pizza. He’d walk in first of course and say in his loudest voice “Hello Motherland” in Greek (it sounds less weird in Greek – trust me). Then we’d order whatever our heart desired and actually we’d order more than we really wanted just to show our support of the Greek-owned establishment. My dad had this thing of supporting Greek-owned businesses. It didn’t matter if they weren’t that good it would be a shame to go to a ‘kseno’ when there was a Greek family that could use our business. Then we’d get back in the Oldsmobile and head home but sometimes we’d go for dessert. Vouros Bakery in Roslindale. See I have good memories of my dad. I know my siblings don’t but I do. I mean I have not so good memories either, but I can’t stay mad at him when I think of the time he drove down from Norwood where he was working as a dishwasher and busboy to pick me up from school the day I fake-sicked and wanted to go home and he had chicken soup with him. Bad dads don’t do that. So yeah he wasn’t all that supportive and would tell us off every chance he got, but he was my dad and I miss him a lot. Fraser reruns on Alpha do this to me. They make me remember things about my childhood growing up in Boston. Every morning at 9:45 I put Beba down for her morning nap, take my cappuccino and watch Fraser. But I’m not really watching mostly ’cause I’ve seen these episodes countless times before. I’m remembering things. Some things are good, some things not so good. But I’ll just stick to the good for now. My sister Gianna was here over the weekend visiting and she often likes to bring up memories from the past. She remembers me as a little girl always wanting to read her college books (she’s 10 years older than me). She remembers me waiting up for her after her shift at Steve’s so I could count her dollar bills from her tips. She had so many!! She remembers me typing her English papers cause she had to go to work and instead of Richard the third I wrote Richard the Gere once. I was 10, ok? My brother Dimitri, who’s 13 years older than me, loved to take me shopping. He worked at Dolphin Seafood peeling potatoes during the day and at Norwood House of Pizza in the evenings. He’d often call me at home on Washington Street and ask me how to say something in English to a customer. I’m surprised he even got that job, his English was horrible. But I loved those phonecalls because I loved helping out my brother. To reward me he’d take me shopping and buy me anything I wanted. I loved Banana Republic and Gap. My brother Dimitri and my sister Gianna were my best friends growing up. I still feel close to them but sometimes I feel like they don’t feel close to me anymore. I think marriage and kids do that to relationships, all relationships. You’ll say something, they’ll say something, there will be misinterpretations. Just like in Fraser. This is why Fraser makes me homesick.