Maybe the intensity of nuclear families can be diluted by building a community of ‘extended, chosen’ family
My husband and I went to Italy for our honeymoon just before the pandemic. It was a strange time. Everything we fell in love with about Italian life became its undoing not long afterwards – the spontaneity, socialising, multi-generational family homes, the shared space in the evenings where foot traffic, scooters and bar patrons mingled together in alleyways, all that joyous communal life.
We left my children behind in Australia, one of them a teenager and one not yet, in a patchwork of care arrangements provided by generous friends. I fielded calls from the children while walking up and down ancient streets in Bari and Bologna. They were bickering with each other, they couldn’t find their school ties, they missed us, they did not feel like school today. I told them my phone reception was bad and I would call them when I got to the apartment.
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