Why Old People Scare Me...

Remember how I said I needed a fire under my ass to get my courses done? Ya, got the fire.. a $5000 fire.
I paid my deposit for tuition. Or well, my parents did, putting me at their mercy.

My father took this as an opportunity to tell me to go visit my grandfather (his father).

My grandfather has been an alcoholic for the past 30 some odd years of his life. He hates my mother because she is a nurse and for the last year of my grandmother's life kept telling everyone she needed to go to a doctor. My grandmother never went, until she was admitted in the hospital before she died.

He also hates her for other racist reasons.

Let me give you an idea of how the conversation on the phone went with him yesterday, this portion happened after the usual conversation one would have (hi, how are you, when can I come over, blah blah blah)

Me: So how was your trip? (he just returned from visiting my family in California)
Him: Good, Mark (my brother) isn't losing any weight.
Me: Oh, I heard he had lost some, I was told he was doing yoga.
Him: Who did you hear that from?!?!
Me: My mother.
Him: Oh, well he goes sporadically, he might go monday but not again until thursday.
Me: Ohe, well what would I know, I'm not there.
Him: That and you have an Italian mother.

Now what would you say right there? I mean it is a statment of fact. My mother is Italian. What was implied is a whole other issue:
That we are all fat? (which we are in fact not at all, my grandfather's diet consists of 500 calories and a bottle of rye)
That my mother feeds us too much?
That my mother babies us? Loves us affectionately?

My actual response was:
Me: Well, it is what it is.

I love my father and know that he doesn't need the added stress of my grandfather and I in a feud, and for him I am cordial with my grandfather. So I will visit him tomorrow, but I won't let him drive me anywhere, and I will only stay for an hour or so.

I've been feeling kinda villified for being Italian lately.

I watch a soap opera, "The Young and the Restless" and I have for over a decade now..
It's always been a tradition with my mum and it gives us something to talk about, and bond over. Lately they have been doing a mafia storyline. I always cringe at those.
All the Italian characters aren't just Italian. They have slicked back shiny jet black hair, are incredibly tan, and stand out amongst the more Aryan looking cast.
In one episode, Nikki (one of the longtime members of the cast) asks about one of the mafia guys by saying "You know, the dark man, looks like he doesn't belong..."

She and My grandfather should get together for coffee.

I love my Italian heritage, and I wear it with pride. I try to introduce those that don't really know much past pizza and cesar salad (two things you may have a hard time finding in Italy, well not pizza, but it wouldn't look like the crap you get a pizza hut). I tried making risotto for my bf's very german/british/irish/scottish family.
His brother put soy sauce on it. I almost cried.
I brought panettone... an Italian cake that has bread in it. and chocolate, lots of chocolate.
No one touched it, claiming they didn't feel like eating rye bread.

Will I try again to feed his family traditional Italian cooking?
Maybe, but I won't work too hard at it. They are picky.

Will I yell at my grandfather for the years of abuse not only to his liver but to his entire family?
Maybe, but it would only cause more problems then it would solve. I never got to yell at my grandmother before she died, and I'm kinda grateful I didn't.
People may respect me less for it, claim I have no backbone and to them I say "Up yours, it's my family and I'll deal with it as I see fit."


-LMK