Words pour, life, work, dreams and fears articulated sometimes mumbled, unfiltered from her. She has a lot to say and we only have two days. During the pauses, we cook. She likes me in her kitchen using her stuff.
Cooking together settles her, so that story by story, we can sort things out. Her life is feverishly stressful but its the life she wants. Coming to terms with everything it means to be an ambitious woman is tiresome. She resents the inequity but gets that ‘it is what it is’. When she was a little girl, her kindergarten teacher chuckled when she told me, “I’ve never heard a five year old tell another five year old that ‘their behavior was unacceptable’ before. She’s always had a defined sense of order. When people are unreasonable or self-centered, the situation becomes skewed. Instead of dealing with what’s important, you end up all over the map with no way to really get to where you’re going. It makes her crazy, still.
We prepared a meal of milk-fed veal cutlets, breaded and sauteed in extra virgin olive oil laced with sweet butter. We finished the veal with fresh artichoke hearts, white wine, lemon juice and crispy capers. On the side, we did a quick pasta with grape tomatoes flashed in hot olive oil, garlic and freshly chopped basil.
I love being her mom.
Thanks for reading.
