Friday, August 28, 2009

Pie Bonding

Close-up of mince pie

Today Mom and I ate a pie.

Now, those of you who know my mom realize the significance of this.

My mother was a health food devotee before it was in style. Almost completely vegetarian, she considered fresh mustard greens the ultimate treat. (If you’ve ever had mustard greens you know that her taste buds were not like yours and mine.) Fresh (weird) vegetables, fruit and steamed fish was a blissful meal. Her daughter preferred cake, pie, and cookies…following anything fried or with cheese sauce.

Somewhere during her mid-80s Mom started craving Whoppers with Cheese from Burger King (she calls it “The King Restaurant.” And Haagen-Dazs. Chocolate bars. Pie. Not just a piece---a whole pie.

“You keep changing all your life--even when you’re old,” Mom says with a casual shrug.

I felt kind of mad about this for some ridiculous reason. (If you can’t count on your parents to stay the same, what can you count on?) My mother isn’t supposed to change! She isn’t supposed to like sweets! She isn’t supposed to eat unhealthy foods! (She isn’t supposed to grow old and leave me either…)

The older Mom gets, the more we have in common---which is a tad disconcerting, I must confess.

As her memory fails, sometimes it’s the things that have distanced us that go by the wayside. That’s not a bad thing really. Even a bit of a blessing perhaps.

I’ve always felt there is a blessing somewhere in every crisis.

Tomorrow we’re going to eat a cake.

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