One of Judy's favorite things is food. Whenever she goes anywhere, when she returns home I get a recitation of everything she had to eat, and sometimes even the quantities. This is often repeated either later that day or the next day (just to be sure I got it).
For instance, Judy went to a church event recently. When she got home, I heard about the food: "I had pancakes. And sausages (she has some trouble with that word). And ham." She will often drag the words a little, too, as if saying them a little slower adds to the experience ("I had paancaakes. And saausages. And haaam.") She tends to go in chronological order, with the dessert menu (the pinnacle of the dining experience, in Judy's world) coming last. She will include the beverages (she loves coffee and wine), and how many glasses/cups she had of whatever.
Whenever anyone close to her (generally meaning, Mom, Diane or me) goes to some event, Judy almost always asks about the food: "Did you have refreshments?" "What did you have to eat?"
It's not enough to just talk about food, of course. She often brings home leftovers from church. At any given time, there may be bagels, muffins, cookies or a variety of other foods in our refrigerator that she has brought home. I often wonder if the "churchmembers" think we don't feed her.
When there is some special dinner, breakfast, or other food-related event at church, we always give her money for it. Yet she still often comes home and tells us that a churchmember paid for her food. In late 2009, I told her one time that the churchmembers don't need to pay for her food -- that's why we give her money. She threw a full-out tantrum, accusing me of not wanting the churchmembers to do nice things for her. Oy. I'm sure Diane somehow saved the day and explained the deal to Judy.
Of course, she doesn't give us our money back when she lets someone else pay for her food. One week, after she had a day or two earlier allowed someone else to pay for her food, she wanted to get some takeout food (probably Chinese food, that's living the high life in her mind). I suggested that she could pay for it with the money we gave her. She laughed at me and walked away.
We try to take Judy out to eat on a fairly regular basis (we will often try to get my mother -- who is 90 years old -- to go along, as Judy likes to see her and talk to her). A trip to the diner or to Red Lobster or just about any restaurant is an event for her. Since she has trouble seeing in low light, reads slowly, has some reading comprehension issues, and often cannot make a decision, we help her out with menu choices. We know pretty much what she likes (seafood is one of her favorites) and doesn't like (tomatoes, mushrooms, etc), so we try to narrow it down to a few choices and see which one she wants, then wade through the choices for salad, soup, vegetables, potato, etc. It is not always easy. My mother sometimes makes it worse: We'll find something on the menu and Judy will agree to it, then Mom might see something else and suggest it. That resets the whole process. Time to tell the waiter/waitress we need a few more minutes.
No meal is complete in Judy's world without dessert. She will often not eat her entire dinner at a restaurant, holding a little room for something sweet. Occassionally, when the server asks if anyone wants dessert, Judy will blurt out "Sundae." Sometimes, she just perks up and starts looking at me and Diane like a cat that just heard the sound of a can opener.
Although Diane and I try to give Judy as many experiences as we can, she still lacks the fullness of a "normal" life, and food fills some of that gap for her. So while I may mutter "kill me" under my breath when she starts to tell me the menu from her most recent outing, perhaps for the second or third time, I do understand that it plays a big role in her life.
XXX
PS: As I was writing the above, it reminded me of other aspects of Judy's life that I can write about: her relationship with our mother, her attitude about money, why she doesn't like to eat tomatoes, etc., etc.
No comments:
Post a Comment