Bena Mae’s Kitchen: Eighteen Years is a Landmark for Me

I’m combing through gray hair now. And my wrinkles are a little more prominent. The state of my mind is open to question, the jury is still out on that one. Lots of changes have taken place over the eighteen years and five computers ago when I started writing this column. But one thing has stayed constant.  And that is you readers who have made it all possible. You inspire me with your loyalty. I appreciate you more than I can say.

Brother Don is also showing signs of age.  He passed the big 7-0 last week. Although he still looks good, his body is telling him  to slow down. Most of our conversations now are about pills and doctors.

I had a long heart-to-heart with my primary doctor last week. He is about my son’s age and I feel like I can talk straight to him. After all, at my age, I know some things he doesn’t know.

“Look, Dr. D.” I said. “There are some things you doctors need to know. Just because a patient is elderly, that doesn’t mean that their pain is less intense. A backache or toothache is just as acute to an 80-year-old as it is to a 40-year-old. We’re tired of being put in a box labeled “The Elderly” and stuck on a shelf and forgotten. We need to be taken seriously.”

“And another thing,” I went on, “you need to realize that every pain we have is not just in our heads. It is real.  Furthermore, we’re tired of the “stress” diagnosis. Sure, we’re under stress. Who isn’t these days? But our stress is accompanied by a society that considers us as non essential, the old ditzy aunt or uncle who is just tolerated until it’s time to read the will.” (I should have reminded Dr. D. that Grandma Moses didn’t even start painting until she was in her sixties. But you can’t think of everything.)

I left Dr. D’s office feeling better. Not from any pill or advice he gave me, but from unloading some of the grievances that my generation has to cope with. I don’t know if they made any impact upon him, though. They’re probably on the shelf in that box labeled “The Elderly”.

My needs and wants have changed dramatically in the last eighteen years. I used to think I would die if I didn’t go out on a Saturday night. Now I think I’ll die if I have to go out on a Saturday night. I don’t order steak in a restaurant anymore. Too hard to chew.  Ground round will do it.

As I write this, I can smell the flavor of greasy beans cooking on the stove. I’ll enjoy them tonight with cornbread and a tall glass of ice cold buttermilk. Then I’ll turn on the TV and watch Jeopardy. That’s about my speed now.

Lena Petrey requested the spaghetti sauce recipe from Olive Garden. Hope this is the right one.

Olive Garden Spaghetti Sauce Recipe

1. In a large skillet, heat: 

2 tablespoons oil 

2. Add: 

2 pounds ground round 

3. Brown meat until cooked through. 

4. Stir in: 

1 (14 oz.) can of stewed tomatoes, drained and chopped 

6 oz. of V-8 juice 

1 (16 oz.) jar of Prego spaghetti sauce 

1 envelope onion soup mix 

1/2 c. grape jelly 

5. Cook, stirring often, for 15-20 minutes, or until jelly is melted and sauce is heated through.