She's Getting Older

I watch as she struggles to make it down the hall to the bathroom. I watch her stumble to her wheelchair and miserably gaze out the window as cars zoom by our house. My grandmother's getting older. Osteoporosis has changed her life. Four severe bone breaks and eight surgeries later has left her dependent upon us for everything. And when you're an independent person, that breaks you.

The holidays are especially hard. She loves to cook. It along with her knowledge of gardening and horticulture are the things she gets the most joy out of. I remember how she'd spend hours at the grocery store, finding only the absolute best of everything for our family meal.

If she was cooking for the entire family, she spent two to three days getting everything ready. When it was just our family, she was up at 5AM on Thanksgiving Day prepping the turkey and stuffing to put into the oven and bake. When I was a teenager I asked her, "Granny, why does it take so long to cook a turkey?" She told me, "If you try to cook it too fast, it'll be done on the outside and raw inside. There's also the matter of tenderness and juiciness. No one wants turkey that's as tough as leather and tastes like sidewalk chalk."

Her side dishes were also treated with the same care as she treated her turkey. The family favorite is her devilled eggs: she would boil the eggs, take the yolks out, mix them with mayo, and then spoon them back into the egg whites. Some people add mustard, but not her. She likes simplicity. I personally hate mayo with the fire of a thousands suns, and so I take my uncle and grandfather's word that they're good.

My personal favorite was her Cherries Jubilee: pie filling cherries mixed with cream cheese and whipped topping. Yum! She served them in mini pie crusts, which gave them something of a cheesecake vibe!

By 1PM, the food would be ready to go. Turkey and stuffing cooked to absolute perfection, buttery whipped mashed potatoes that melt in your mouth, tender macaroni topped with gooey tangy sharp cheddar cheese, corn on the cob that's crisp and sweet, soft and sweet brown and serve dinner rolls, and another family favorite sweet potato and pecan pie. I stick with the other dessert choices.

Along with the Cherries Jubilee, she also made me a cheesecake. When I was little, I grew up with people who never considered my feelings on anything. Least of all likes and dislikes when it came to food. I wanted cheesecake. Everyone else wanted banana pudding. I didn't like banana pudding and they didn't like cheesecake.

When I told Granny about that shortly after coming to live with her at sixteen, she told me it wasn't fair to me that they didn't make cheesecake too. After all, it doesn't cost a lot to make. I told her, "I was told that making a dessert just for me was showing special treatment." Granny smiled sadly, and said, "no, it shows they care about everyone there. You included. From now on, you'll have a cheesecake with every holiday meal. I happen to like both cheesecake and banana pudding."

I made a face at her when she mentioned the banana pudding, and she laughed. I could tell she had a plan to make me try it out. She made the banana pudding with cheesecake pudding instead of vanilla, and graham crackers instead of vanilla wafers. Needless to say I overindulged in dessert that day! To this day, that's my own special banana pudding. I've switched out the banana for pineapple and the result was even more delicious!

But, alas, all good things must come to an end. That night, I was going in for some more of that delicious macaroni when the dish the devilled eggs were in fell out of the fridge and shattered. Come to find out, the dish had belonged to Granny's mother and was irreplaceable. I felt so much guilt over destroying something priceless like that. But, she just smiled, and helped me clean up the mess. That's just her way. Accepting what is and not being quick to anger.

My favorite part of those days wasn't just the food, it was the company. Cooking with her, talking about anything and everything, and learning how to make things like she does (mine's close, but not as good). Being able to form a bond with someone who loved me without conditions, who didn't judge me for being clumsy, and who wanted me around made all the difference in the world. Still does.

I'm not going to lie though. Like most young people, I didn't appreciate that closeness as much as I should have until I moved away from my hometown for a bit. That was when it really hit me just how big her part in my life was. Cooking holiday meals after that took on a different meaning, and they turned me into a weepy sentimental sap. I anticipated coming and didn't want to leave once I got there!

There's a country music song called 'You're Gonna Miss This' and it hits right at the heart of how I feel when I look back on this times now. I do miss this. So much. I miss her vitality, her spirit, her fight. She bought me my first Harry Potter book. She helped me make it through high school when all I wanted to do was drop out because of the endless bullying. She helped me pick up the pieces when I miscarried twins. She has given me so much.

I do my best to pay that forward, and do for her as much as she did for me all these years. But, the one thing she wants, is the only thing I can't give her back in return. And that hurts more than anything else. I can cook things for her, I can go shopping, I can drive her places, but it's not the same as her being able to do them for herself. Change is the only thing that's constant in this world. I love it and hate it in equal measures.