Dinner With the Godfather in Understanding the Unthinkable

I had dinner on Saturday night with the Godfather. No, really. He’s my little old Italian godfather. Uncle Robert and Aunt Pat. We eat early. 5 PM. He’ll be waiting. When I walk in, he rises and says, “Caw-nee, how ah ya? Pat, my favorite niece is he-ah.” (I’m his only niece…I’ve been hearing this joke for 60+ years but we’ll both pretend it’s new)

Then we spent the next few hours talking about the boys and my cousins and their kids and work and other relatives, which included a story about how J. Edgar framed Uncle Louis (no, really! The Boston Globe broke the story…years after Uncle Louis died in prison…not that Uncle Louis was a choir boy…wait…it was the 50s) and maybe an argument between him and Aunt Pat about whether that was over the Philly incident or the DelGado boys on the docks in Miami.

One thing is for sure…whenever we get together, I’ll have at least one new story to add to the family pile! LOL!

Uncle Robert is getting more and more stooped over, but mostly they’re about the same. Aunt Pat is always digging for or passing on gossip, Uncle Robert is still grousing about Aunt Carolyn, they still know every restaurant in town and lots of tips on what to order, best wait staff, etc.

Our waitress could have worked at Durgin Park! (Wikipedia quote: “In keeping with its long history, the concept of Durgin-Park maintains the tradition of communal seating at long tables. The menu is designed to offer traditional New England-style fare with a concentration on seafoods, chowders, broiled meats and boiled dinners. The service is also a partial hold-over from the time of its founding as the waitstaff have been encouraged to adopt a “surly” attitude and “backtalk” the clientele.”)

Apparently she knows Uncle Robert and Aunt Pat pretty well. When she saw Uncle Robert, her eyes narrowed, and she said, “You again! Well, sit down. I suppose I’ll have to feed you since you brought your wife.” She then berated Uncle Robert for being difficult, told Aunt Pat she was a saint, and served him last. He loved every minute of it. They seem to know all sorts of intimate details of her life (her daughter is a US Marshall that flies on planes), so now my husband and I know, too.

Uncle Robert and Aunt Pat are coming for Christmas dinner, but the dinner Uncle Robert has his heart set on is bringing lobsters to the house, so we’ll do that in January. He’s become a bit of a hovering mother hen. He always does when someone dies. I let him tell me what he needs to tell me.

This time it was to remind me that I’ve been an excellent mother and I can’t blame myself for Nick’s drug addiction. I tried to explain that I don’t “blame” myself, as much as I regret not knowing about his thyroid disease. I don’t think my uncle really understood. It’s not his fault. It’s just hard to explain.

Everyone tells me the first year is the hardest. Four months to go.