My father loves pumpkin pie. He asks for it almost weekly. No, we do not dish it out weekly. But maybe we should…..he’s 87, he’s earned it. What’s the harm? Of course, my father also no longer seems to have “I’m full” receptors left so perhaps us dishing it out in smaller increments is not the worst idea.
And ice cream! He literally loves to go to his deep freeze with a spoon in hand and enjoy some ice cream right from the carton. My mother would have been quite horrified by this but I figure, what the hell? It’s not hurting anyone and he does seem to be self regulating that one for some unknown reason.
Have I mentioned that the brain is pretty much unfathomable for me? My brain, your brain, his brain. There is just so much we don’t understand.
Dad’s first “treat” when they reached Germany after slogging through Russia and escaping into east Germany was ice cream. He remembers this fondly and speaks of it often. Something about that ice cold sweet treat stuck with him. My Tante Susie bought it for him.
Interestingly enough, my mother, who only ate ice cream sparingly (she not only watched her waistline ultra carefully but she was a “good” Mennonite which meant, one doesn’t really indulge in anything that one might like a lot) ended up eating a small amount of ice cream on a daily basis for the last 2 years of her life. I realized she was loving it so I sent it with my Dad every day when he went to give her lunch or dinner. Yes, I indulged her instead of “Mennonite-ing” her – HAH!
We realized there was something wrong when my mother started to refuse the ice cream. 3 weeks later, she died peacefully in her sleep one morning at the Touchmark care facility in Wedgewood down the road from us.
My father and I (and sometimes my husband and my daughter), went and sang every day for those 3 weeks. We sang everything we could think of! African songs, old hymns, Christmas carols even though it was September, folk tunes, children’s songs, etc etc. You name it, we sang it. I’m not sure if my mother truly heard us but we heard us! And the lady in the adjoining room seemed to really like it too.
We sang our hearts out and it soothed our souls. My dad was most definitely more relaxed and more accepting of it all as a direct result of us singing so much. Or at least, that’s what I think I noticed and what I choose to believe. We talked about it but all he would say was that he was really enjoying the daily singing. How like him.
And now, he soothes his soul with pumpkin pie and the occasional spoonful of ice cream straight from the carton. And more singing. He is now enjoying Under Pressure a little bit and even Text Me Merry Christmas too! I win!!! HAH!
And so my mother and my father now have a shared love of ice cream….a little secret indulgence when over the years they doled out sweet treats like ice cream very sparingly. Go figure huh? It feels just fine to indulge him.
No idea why the pumpkin pie though. My mother liked flapper pie!
