Food in Times of Crisis

*Originally published on July 29, 2023

We don't think of eating when in a crisis. Instead of taking the time to refuel we're willing to let our stomachs grumble to the point of pain if it means that we are one second closer to emerging from whatever disaster we're experiencing. Food never makes it on our priority list during these times simply because eating good food feels selfish when our world is crashing down everywhere else but the dining room. It's a waste of time to sit down and have a good meal because our to-do list contains items of far greater importance.

On July 11, 2023 my Grammy suffered a massive stroke on the right side of her brain, leaving the entire left side of her body paralyzed and her cognition compromised. Two days earlier, she was at my house enjoying tea and pastries with my family. We listened to Bossa Nova on the back deck while enjoying gorgeous weather and iced tea. It wasn't too hot when every day prior had been scorching. She had worn a beautiful blue and green skirt that complemented her eyes and matched the sky. The pastries, sandwiches, and tea weren't too heavy and left us with plenty of room for a good dinner. I remember making an effort to memorize every detail about that afternoon because everything was so perfect.

When we arrived at the Emergency Room with the ambulance, I had just come from swim practice and had not had the chance to eat yet. My dad brought some granola bars to tide us over, but every time he offered me one I declined. I couldn't stomach the idea of eating when Grammy had suffered so much worse. We stayed at the hospital for four hours, during which we waited anxiously and called all of my grandmother's children to tell them the news. It was devastating. At the end of the evening, my aunt, uncles, and family members had booked flights to come to Atlanta to help. In the mean time, my mother took the reigns in ensuring Grammy got the best care until the cavalry arrived. 

Holding the role of grandchild in these situations is really difficult. I'm devastated but I'm also somewhat removed from the mother-daughter/mother-son bond that my mother, aunt, and uncles share with Grammy. It's so hard to grasp what's happening but I have no choice but to hold it together for everyone else. I called my cousins that evening and told them that we're going to have to be the glue in the family for a while.

For me, doing what I could meant cooking. Cooking and cooking and cooking. I had one day's notice to make sure each member of my family received a hot plate of food as soon as they arrived. I made meatloaf and mashed potatoes, garlic sauce and salad, and a lemon tart with whipped cream. A few days later I made sautéed shrimp, rice, and salad. I roasted chicken and potatoes and baked an upside down plum cake. I sent everyone to the hospital with chicken salad sandwiches on bread from the bakery where I work. At night, I made sure everyone's wine glass was full. It's too easy to forget that food quite literally gives us the energy to operate at full capacity.

Flavorful food cooked with love and enjoyed in good company breeds a special type of energy that goes beyond our physical ability to keep going. We close our eyes and chew slowly and later laugh at jokes around the table. This whole experience satisfies the racing hearts and stops the perpetual nausea that comes with crises such as this. I mention this because when taking on the role of caregiver, energy is everything, but we think of food last. For my mother, aunt, and uncles, all of their energy was going directly to their mother. So for me, I tried to make sure that everyone received a plate of Good Food at the table so Grammy could receive as much good energy from her children as possible.

This week my Grammy moved into a nursing home. She lives in a room with purple walls and a purple carpet. I bought her plants to decorate her room and visit her whenever I can. After some work with a speech therapist in the ICU, she can now chew and swallow and my mother and aunt bring her pastries every day. My dad and I are now always in charge of dinner and tonight, while you're reading this, we'll be making baked pork tenderloin, mashed potatoes, and salad. We'll serve it with a good Malbec and finish the evening with a slice of chocolate-bourbon cake that I made the other day. My mother and aunt will return from their meetings with Grammy's lawyer, financial planner, and bank and will wake up and continue in the morning. Every day we will fuel ourselves with Good Food so we can transfer that good energy to Grammy.