You couldn't tell it from Mom, who in her later years (she was 87 here, and lived only one more year) would become considerably slimmer, largely due to a change in her appetite. But my family, immediate and extended, tends toward obesity. You'd see it even more if I were to show a group photo including many of my cousins.
It's not a judgment or a put-down. It's just the truth.
Martha Malena "Mollie" Berge (1878-1973) was the only of my eight great-grandparents whom I got to know. A native of Norway, Mollie was rotund in her young adulthood. She had religious convictions against alcohol (and, for that matter, dancing, gambling and playing cards), so her principal vices were flour, sugar, butter and gravy. Those same vices prevailed in my extended family, and eating that way made sense when farming -- back-breaking labor from sunrise to sunset, and even beyond during the harvest season -- was their way of life.
I am sure our genetic makeup plays a role in our body size.
But for me, and I know for my brothers, what we eat, and how much we eat, is a factor that's not as easy to control as many people (doctors) seem to think.
First, we get from our families, to a large degree (pun intended), our taste in food -- what we like to eat. A lot of Midwestern people grew up on fried chicken, fried EVERYTHING, noodle dishes, cream-soup casseroles, mass quantities of bread and sweets out the wazoo. We crave the foods we grew up with, associate them with comfort and camaraderie. And when we eat them, we eat them in mass quantities.
My family's pretty scattered now. Except for the day about a year ago when my brother Matt came through Madison and stayed the night with us, I haven't had a meal with any family member in a long, long time.
Matt, by the way, is a lot thinner now than he was in this photo. He's had bariatric surgery, and he swears it saved his life. Because I was "making calories count" at the time of his visit, I fixed a home-cooked meal for Matt -- grilled salmon, steamed broccoli, brown rice, cottage cheese. He couldn't eat a Hanson-size portion of anything. That's the effect of the surgery. It limits his food intake.
I have yet to face an extended family meal. How would I deal with urges to eat-eat-eat?
Well, if the family were to serve food from my cousin's farm, I could indulge a little. It's a turkey farm, and turkey breast, if prepared without added fat or breading, is extremely healthy and low in calories.
But I'd have to say no to cakes, pies, ice cream, cookies, breads, even my beloved lefse -- a Norwegian delicacy, a flour-and-potato pancake slathered in butter and/or sugar.
Would my cousins take no for an answer, or think I don't love them because I don't eat as much?
I think they'd understand.
I know, however, that a lot of other families are not so forgiving. They push food on relatives who are watching their weight or health, and get offended if everyone doesn't chow down.
I guess that's the takeaway I'm aiming for here: True hospitality and camaraderie does not, or should not, entail pushing food (or alcohol) on those who eat less, or eat differently, for their health.
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