Grandma with Rosie, June 2012.
Today my grandmother, after a bout of pneumonia, had a feeding tube inserted. She will never "eat" another meal again.
I can't stop thinking about that.
About food, and what nourishes us; about breaking bread, and about doing it together; about Eucharist, and how every bite is grace; about life without these rituals of obtaining food, preparing dishes, eating a meal, and washing up.
About the turkey and gravy over biscuits she always made the weekend after Thanksgiving. About the nutty healthy cookies she kept in the freezer in case we came over.
About Last Suppers, and how I hope she had one worth remembering, and how I want her to know that every bite of bread, broken, is forgiveness; that every sip from the shared cup can be hope, sweet on the tongue.
Grandma with her mother and with me, June 1981.
Posts
2 comments:
I know what you mean here; I found myself feeling that loss of "eating" when I first heard about the possibility of the the tube. The first thought I had was that she wouldn't be able to eat at Jimmy and EA's communal marriage dinner (or even take a drink whens someone "toasts" them. But, when I talked to her, she said that she doesn't really enjoy eating much anymore - except for Ice cream (which she has every evening. And, she also said " I can give it (the tube) a try, and if I really miss food, I can have it removed, eat, and eventually die of pneumonia". Life sometimes gives us experiences for which we can't be prepared - and then, it is our "binding together" in loving support with each other, and the Divine that can see us through and for-give the mercy of God. May it be so for your Grandma Criss, and all of us. Thanks for the photos and your post!
I had totally forgotten about those cookies!
I'm glad we had a last meal with her at Big Orange. She drank the rest of my milkshake. :)
Post a Comment