When it comes to missed opportunities, they are almost always on my mind. Truthfully, it is a single missed opportunity. I run over it in my mind constantly, if not obsessively, but never once have I uttered any of it aloud.
Like thumbing over the edges, instead of cracking open a book to settle in and read, I feel the weight of it, but I haven’t ever allowed the story to really unfold. Part of the problem is that I can’t spell it. The other part of the problem is I can’t fix it. The short version is missed opportunities aren’t about money.
I don’t know the name of my most favorite meal. I can say it, but I can’t spell it no matter how hard I try. Years of Google searches have yielded exactly zero results. It is an Italian-English mishmash of a word recognized only by my mother’s family. The same family that offers sad smiles or clicks of their teeth when I ask about it, convinced that I am mistaken, confused, or simply undeserving of our culinary family lineage that is steeped in meals that took days to prepare and just as long to eat.
I understand their concerns. I know the truth. My favorite meal was borne from excess ingredients that a grandmother who knew what it was like to go without could not bear to waste. While family members’ mouths water at the thought of actual meals that required breaded vegetables or meats, mine misses the afterthought.
I know it is a simple dish. Leftover breadcrumbs combined with a bit of egg and water mixed with grated cheese and parsley flakes. The ratios, though, elude me. Dashes and pinches that I’m certain depended more what was cooked beforehand than was what scrapped together and tossed on the frying pan, still hot and greasy from the earlier entree.
I remember exactly the date of the last time I could have eaten this meal. Four years ago, my nana smiled as she worked her eyes to my stomach and clucked her tongue. “Too skinny. You should eat something.” They were her two favorite sentences. I heard them more than I heard her say how much she loved me because her love was tangled up in those words. Everyone, no matter how big, was too skinny and should eat something. It was an invitation not merely to eat but to sit down, relax, and be fussed over in a way that only grandparents can. After listening to her rattle off a list of options in my parents’ pantry and refrigerator, I politely declined and gave her kiss. I had to go. “Wait. I’ll cook.” She offered to make my favorite meal. Not because she was already cooking and hated to waste, but because she had been serving me plate after plate of this dish at my request for decades. Fresh, just for me. Dashes and pinches that were never supposed to come together except as means to avoid waste. She would make it just for me.
I turned it down. I turned her down. I walked out the door at the request of a family to meet with their son to work on a term paper, since the semester was coming to an end. I said goodbye to continue my streak of side hustling. I drove away out of fear of missed opportunities. Who has time for food when there is money to be made?
I saw my nana the day after that. Of course I did. She wasn’t bedridden or sick, a fragment of her former self. This isn’t one of those stories. She commended me for being so willing to help the kiddies and for always being so ambitious. She clasped my hand with that same familiar strength and smiled that same familiar smile. I was her little go-getter, and she was oh, so proud of me that day like all the days before it.
This isn’t one of those stories. It’s worse.
I never had that meal again because my nana died two days after offering to make it. Two days after inviting me to sit at the table while she mixed together dashed and pinches, telling me stories both familiar and new. Two days after I was still under the impression that missed opportunities were about money.
They’re not. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. In a world so dead set on money, the real missed opportunities are all about time.
But remember how I said it wasn’t one of those stories, it was worse? It is also better.
I might have missed that last meal, but I made time for nearly three decades worth of meals with her. While I may never let myself relive that particular missed opportunity in its entirety again, I will continue to hold the memory close. It is that very memory that reminds me to put family and friends ahead of work and money, to spend time squeeze little fingers instead of scrolling on screens. It is that moment that reminds me to value enough over more, to savor the present as much as I dream of the future.
So Tell Me…What’s the best opportunity that you’ve seized lately?
Penny, that was a very touching post. Sadly, my first instinct when asked about opportunities was to tell you about the consumer panel I was just invited to which will give me $200 in money and rewards for 2-hours of “work”. But you’re absolutely right that real opportunities (missed and seized) are not about money, but about time with our loved ones. I’m fortunate that I get to spend lots of time with my wife, but recently I’ve gotten to spend more time with my mother-in-law as she was preparing for hip replacement surgery (which went smoothly and she’s now in recovery). She’s a very caring and generous person and I’m so glad to have her as part of my family.
The consumer panel sounds like a great gig when considering time and money! I’m so glad that you’re spending more time with your mother-in-law, too. Glad her surgery went well!
*hugs* My comment was going to answer exactly the opposite question but I caught myself in time.
I think that the best thing I did was realizing that I had to just cherish each moment, hard or good, with JB because I didn’t know how many more we’d have to share together. Not in a morbid way, but they grow and change so much in these early years that it’s like having a new or improved person every few months! Or not so improved … 😉
I can’t think of anything recently, though. Poor memory or stagnation? I DO NOT KNOW.
Oh yes! I ditched work to spend time at the dog park with my family on the holiday weekend (that wasn’t a holiday for me). That was pretty fantastic even though I felt terrible with my next cold. 😀
The dog park sounds like a wise choice. And you’re so right about kiddos. Even in six months, it’s unbelievable how quickly they change!
I was glad to read your comment, Rev, because I often have similar thoughts–love them now because who knows how long I get go–and I struggle to explain how it is not morbid, but it isn’t. It’s a fact that directs my choices.
So sorry for your loss, but glad you have many memories from the time you did spend with your Nana. I totally wish I could have tried her dish, because it sounds amazing.
For me, I am seizing a good opportunity as I type. I decided to spend the day at home doing some preparation for a future presentation, and while I am getting some work done, I am also relaxing and spending some quality time with my very happy cats. It is a wonderful break in the midst of an otherwise busy and stressful work week. I will probably regret it in a few weeks when the presentation is due and I’m feeling stressed, but in the moment it’s lovely.
I am so glad you got to take a break, Solitary Diner. You deserve it! I’m sorry you’re feeling so stressed. Best of luck!
It’s really hard not to think about missed opportunities, especially when you’ve lost someone. The best opportunity I ever seized was calling my Nanny to wish her a happy Valentine’s day. I’m so glad I did, because she passed away just a few days after that.
I am so glad you made that call! <3
This is such a bittersweet story and an important lesson. I know it’s entirely beside the point, but is the dish a pangrattato (like this: http://www.delicious.com.au/recipes/lemon-parsley-pangrattato/6a4ddb3a-b40c-4e3e-8e55-3293b7dd319e)? No recipe can ever match an authentic one made by your own grandmother, but nevertheless, whenever I drink a good milkshake, I think of mine. x
You are so sweet for trying to find the dish! If I can come up with a terrible phonetic spelling, it’s some like fro-zhee. I have no idea. Truly!
And I love that you also have a treat that reminds you of your grandmother.
Geez girl you write well!! I felt like I was reading a book by a published author!
Your nana sounded lovely. Sorry that she passed away, her memory and legacy lives on. Spending time with family and friends is so important. I mean to spend more time with my mom- I’ll give her a call now, thanks for the beautiful reminder.
She was the best. All grandmas are! Thanks for the compliment, too. This post has had enough time to rattle around inside. Everyone once in a while, they just kind of spill out.
(And I’m glad you called your mom. Such a mom thing to say, but I can say things like that now!)
“In a world so dead set on money, the real missed opportunities are all about time.”
I hope you’re happy, Penny. You made the eyes of a hideous right-winger well up today. Simply beautiful. If this isn’t Rockstar worthy, I don’t know what is.
You aren’t the only one Mr. Groovy, and this isn’t the first post of Penny’s that’s done that to me.
Oh, wow. Thanks for the comment, Jeff!
That is my mission in life, Mr. G. To make you upset 😉 Kidding! Thanks for the high praise.
Your grandma proud – you didn’t miss that opportunity! Beautifully written post, Penny
Let’s try this again …. your grandma was proud – you didn’t miss that opportunity. Beautifully written post, Penny.
Thank you, Ty! I like to think she is, too. Though I know she absolutely wouldn’t be able to wrap her mind around the idea of a blog 😉
Oh, man. You have me crying and reevaluating my life. Ha. But seriously–beautiful.
Thanks, Femme. You’re too kind!
Beautiful post, I agree with GYM, man you write well:)
I had my shares of loses in the last few years and it was a wake up call.
My kids are getting older quickly and I jump at every opportunity to spend quality time with them (when they let me!)
I’m so glad you spend so much time with them. I keep reminding myself that there will be a time when HP is too big for cuddles. I’m trying to soak them all up now!
Penny, what a beautiful post, and what a lesson to take to heart!
Thank you, Lizzy. I hope that by writing it, I remember the lesson well.
I’m so glad your Nana made this for you so often. This tale is such an important reminder of what time is for. The opportunity to sit in love.
So am I, ZJ! It always makes me smile when people talk about their favorite meals of hers. Mine is the only one that didn’t ever make it onto one of her recipe cards. Ha! Oh well. It always meant more for me!
Oh wow, this brought back bittersweet memories… of my grandmother in a nursing home, and my dad going to visit. I could have gone, I could have hitched a ride with him, but I was leaving to go back to New Hampshire the next day, and I was afraid there wasn’t time. Of course there wasn’t time, because she died shortly after. And I missed the last chance I had to say goodbye. My grandmother cooked for us too, out of love. I’ve started taking Sunday afternoons to make bread. Not folding the laundry, not answering emails for the next day, not doing lesson plans. Making bread for my crew. Hope you’re getting to spend lots of time hugging your sweet baby, Penny. 🙂
Losing loved ones is so hard. And it’s so easy to second guess those last moments together. I suppose the real lesson is that it’s about all the times we choose to make bread with the people we love instead. Sounds like are doing Sundays exactly right!
What a beautiful and bittersweet story, Penny, and one that makes me miss my grandmothers even more than I usually do (even though it’s been years-I lost one back in high school and the other my freshman year of college).
I’m giving up a lot of my time for money these days and I need a good reminder like this every so often that that’s not actually what matters. I did have a friend in town a few weeks ago and took a day off of work to spend time with them. That’s a much better trade-off of my time.