Visiting the Folks or The Power of Parents

I visited my elderly parents yesterday.  It is always a fraught experience for me and one that I know has been brought about, for better or worse, by the miracle of modern medicine.  I love my parents and it is amazing that at almost ages 87 and 88, they continue (with some modification) to move about, drive (you got that right), eat out, be with friends, be with family and function.

They also continue to be who they are with age's inevitable deepening of opinions and beliefs.  And they express themselves with greater certainty and with a desperation that, I believe, comes from their knowledge that they are entitled to say anything they like and better say it quickly while they can.

So, yesterday at lunch my father once again asked me how much I weigh.  He has made allusions recently to my weight which is his "subtle" way of telling me that he thinks I'm fat.  At this same lunch, my mother looked at me and said, "Your hair, it's . . . . (long pause as she studies my hair and I'm wondering - do I need color, does she notice I'm going bald - what, what, what????)  . . . . messy."  My hair is messy.  I am 62 years old and my mother is telling me my hair is messy.  What's worse is that on some level it upset me.

Having kids myself, and being the age that I am, I completely understand the drive to be honest and forthright.  After all, if you can't be honest with your children and your family, there is no authenticity in the world.  On the other hand, the power of the parent, no matter how old you are, is stunning.

I have spent many a conversation with peers who recount tales of their current relationships with parents and the effect words and actions continue to have on them.  Similarly, I observe the profound effect my words can have on my girls.  Sometimes I think the best course is only to offer opinion when asked, but that's tough for someone like me who's full of  . . . opinion.

The obvious conclusion is that I ought to have processed all of this stuff by my age, but I don't think the power of that first seering glance, that first "no" when a baby moves toward a harmful object, that first moment you realize you've disappointed or pleased a parent, ever goes away and becomes part of the fabric of all our relationships going forward.

Pauline Angelina’s Deliziose Polpette

 When my Nana made meatballs, she would always give me a couple before she put them in the gravy – polpette. To this day, when I make meatballs, I always treat myself!

2 lbs. ground beef (some folks use 1/3 veal, 1/3 pork – I don’t)
4 eggs beaten lightly ½ cup of flat leaf parsley – chopped fine
½ - ¾ cup of bread crumbs (I use flavored)
¼ cup grated locatelli romano cheese salt and freshly ground pepper Add milk to consistency.

1. Mix eggs, parsley, bread crumbs, cheese, salt and pepper.
2. Add to meat and work through with hands. Consistency should be slightly firm, yet moist. If too moist, add a little more breadcrumbs, but not too much because meatballs will be too hard.
3. Shape into balls 2” in diameter. ( I rinse my hands after each two or three balls and it makes the rolling easier.)
4. Brown on all sides on non-stick fry surface. 5. Once browned, continue cooking in gravy.