A husband by marriage once leaned in close and spoke in an almost whisper but not quite soft enough for everyone not to hear.
“You, buying these biscuits, really helped.”
He tilted his head as if he were saying, “You understand where I am going with this. Don’t you?”
I did.
They were fresh, out of the oven Biscuitville biscuits, and if you live in the South, or if you pass through the South, for god’s sake never ever pass them up. They are delicious. Pull the car off the freeway even if it makes you late. Wait in the usual very long line. I promise. It will be worth it.
But since I am from the North, this passive-aggressive arm-twisting conversation was awkward and would be considered rude. I grew up owning my thoughts, and if i’ve got something to say, I should just come right out and say it. I was also raised never to show up empty-handed because it would look like I was looking for a handout. Up until this moment, I brought something I thought was helpful, but usually homemade. Besides, no one had said a word about my cooking being a problem.
So the emphasis on “this really helped” felt like a mob exchange, and if you are from the North, that kind of talk is real and creepy. No one thinks it’s funny or normal. Yes. I had gotten his point. I realized he meant “So keep on bringing Biscuitville biscuits” or as another family member explained it to me later, “taking us out to dinner or asking us if we need you to pitch in moneywise.”
At this moment I was officially being asked to join a club, a club many of my friends had warned me never to join: The older family member who seemingly has nothing better to do than spend money on other family members.
I have girlfriends who have gone through this. The seemingly innocent “Why don’t you move in with us mom, (auntie, uncle, elderly widower bro-law)” soon turns into, “Hand over your Social Security check, retirement funds…help me raise my children.”
If that’s how you want to live your life, that’s fine, but in this truly butter-my-biscuit moment I felt embarrassed for this man. I could not unhear his comment. My filter is Northern, and it won’t change anytime soon. I am also very close to official Silver Sneakers Status, so any hint of ageism makes me cringe.
I would invite other humans to remember that many of your older family members have worked most of their lives and when things slow down for them, they might want to enjoy life for perhaps the first time in their lives. In fact, I know way too many older people who won’t stop working simply because they fear they won’t be able to pay their co-pays. Most retirement funds are not what they used to be.
So if you can’t take your family out to dinner (many can’t afford it) or you need someone (you barely know) to help out financially so you can be seen in public out at a restaurant acting like everything is okay—even though things are not okay; or if you have money but you don’t want to spend it because you are afraid (like eveyone else) that when you retire you won’t have enough money—stop voting for the same mediocre, white supremacist good old boys who dont care about you or your family. We need “Medicare for Everyone,” for example.
I am in the process of picking new cookware because it gives me so much pleasure, creating a good recipe. That’s just homemade vs. restaurant me. I have never bought a complete set, and I won’t replace my beloved All-Clad saute pan, which looks like new over 20+ years later. In fact, I am leaning towards a complete All-Clad set, which will cost me an arm and a leg, but at least they are my arms and my legs. As Anthony Bourdain once said, “Good heavy bottom pots, key…that’s where spending money is worth it!”
Mary Louise Penaz holds a BA in English from Hunter College, where she was awarded the Academy of American Poets Award College Prize. She also holds an MA and Ph.D. in English and Literature from the University of Houston, Texas, and an MFA in Creative Writing from Bennington Writing Seminars in Bennington, Vermont.
Mary Louise currently resides in North Carolina with her husband and their Golden Pyrenees, Sheldon Buttercup. Her writing has been published in various literary magazines and anthologies.

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