End-of-life care practitioners know that one of the main markers for a person moving into their “active dying” stage is their loss of appetite and/or their desire to simply stop eating. “The body knows.” Its intuitive, ancestral wisdom, borne through thousands of years of evolution, knows when it’s time to no longer expend energy on the finding and consumption of food—the body’s internal clock says: “Umm…we no longer need that, thank you though. We’re done now.”
If we use THAT as the sole metric for Dad right now, then Dad is going to live another 10 or 15 years! In other words:
THE MAN CAN STILL EAT!!!
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We’ve referenced this in a humorous way in a few of these blogs but those family members and friends closest to us know we are a vegan, plant-based home—we really are! About a decade ago, I made the choice, along with my daughter Cassidy, to “go full vegan.” Partly for health reasons; mostly out of compassion for fellow beings (“Mitakuye Oyasin”). Kristin is just about completely there now as well excepting an occasional dairy product. Sammy has no choice in the matter—but full disclosure, he’s still a meat eater, much like his brother Connor!
And Dad? This meat, head-cheese, and blood-sausage eating carnivore who balked at anything green on his plate?
Yep. He’s fully plant-based too now (I’ll sheepishly admit that in the past we sometimes didn’t “fully disclose” to him that the burger he was eating was made with beans and tofu—hey, don’t you dare knock it until you’ve tried it here, at our house, with my preparation! C’mon over!). Now we just don’t care about pretenses. This is an opportunity for Dad to fully engage in all aspects of his wellness which includes what he puts into his body to nourish it.
Which, if you think about it, is more than food, right? Dad’s also now putting into his body: daily sights of trees and plants and flowers and butterflies; sounds of birds and squirrels and running water from our waterfalls, and some enriching silence (with, now ample, classic country western honky tonk); smells of home-made food, fresh-baked bread, and incense; sunlight and warmth and water on his skin; walks outdoors with bare feet grounding into Mother Earth; and the companionship of sharing conversation and reflections. If watching TV, he’s mostly watching nature, or American history documentaries with a smattering of old time westerns sprinkled in—Kristin and Dad are enjoying bonding over their nightly Jeopardy viewing! (but they don’t keep score as they play in case you were wondering). All this is just as important as good food in nourishing the body, mind, and spirit. I do wish he was a reader though (we did not grow up with books in the house); and don’t tell him but I’ll be practicing Qi Gong and Tai Chi with him in the Fall once we close the pool; and there may be some puzzles in our future too.
Okay, back to food:
Trust me on this…he IS enjoying every meal! We know this because 1. he’s eating and 2. he cleans his plates! Even when he says “Oh, I can’t eat that much,” then proceeds to eat everything—you should have seen him devour Kristin’s homemade biscuits and gravy earlier this week! I could add a 3rd too:
like the time when he woke at 3:30 am and wanted to be moved to his chair in the living room to finish sleeping but added groggily as he sat “I can sure taste a latte right now.”
?!?!? 😖😖😖 !?!?!
Me: “Dad, it’s 3:30 in the bloody morning, it’s NOT breakfast time!”
“Okay…. Did Kristin make more muffins?”
“Go back to sleep Dad.”
[verbatim transcription]
It’s making a difference. There is so much in food science that has been neglected in the Western medical community—when was the last time your practitioner talked with you in-depth about the food you are eating every single day as they write you new drug prescriptions to fight many of the maladies that might be preventable through better nutrition—even and especially for geriatric patients? For Dad, we are having regular bowel movements (yes, I went there just now!) after a week or so of gastro-intestinal adjusting early in his residency here (Dad on diarrhea isn’t fun, trust me on that—and yes, I went there too just now! No, pictures not included. And… you’re welcome.); his energy seems up a tick; some of his skin issues have cleared up; and he’s been practicing dancing the tango on the upper deck as the sun sets in the west. (Oh, okay. Forget the whole “dancing the tango” thing—that’s not happening. But it was fun to visualize, right?).
Dad’s meat and potato pallet, that included head cheese (just ain’t gonna let that rest!) and boudin-noir…
Boudin-noir??? Blood sausage made the French way, likely by his father Viktor following a pig slaughter (sorry—just normal farm stuff), then passed down to Uncle Larry, the first born son—Dad never learned to cook boudin; hell, Dad never learned to cook anything!—but even I will admit, right along with Clary, that although it has the most unique look, smell, and taste, (MOST UNIQUE!), Uncle Larry’s boudin was pretty damn good with a half-dozen slices of buttered toast! Fresh pans of it never lasted for more than an hour. But, I digress….and you’re welcome, again. BTW: blood sausage ain’t vegan—just sayin’…. In case you were wonderin’.
… ahem, as I was saying, his pallet has now expanded to include a wide variety of “from the rainbow” veggies (“yes, Dad, that’s what that green thing is; it’s this foreign food they call SPINACH!…now eat the damn thing!), legumes, pastas, rice, and plant-based meats—all with different textures, aromas, and spices; and yep, even tofu (Kristin makes MEAN garlic-spiced fried tofu cubes that we add to pasta dishes but mostly eat right out of the pan). We strive to be fully organic, whole, and clean in our eating and selection of ingredients (and remember, we always add the most important ingredient to every meal—remember what that is? See post “Tenzo Kyokun” for a refresher if needed!).
So, what’s a gastronomic day like for Dad you ask? Glad you did!
Breakfast (typically at his chair downstairs as he’s starting his day—he’ll also watch a news program like CBS This Morning) is usually one of Kristin’s home-baked blueberry and whole-wheat muffins, or toast, with an oatmilk latte—always the oatmilk latte.
Dad: “What kind of milk is this again?”
Me: “Oatmilk Dad, they make it using oats, no cows needed.”
D: “Hmpf. I like this.”
M: “I know Dad. You also don’t have a choice.”
BTW: no matter how early he wakes, this kitchen here don’t open for business ‘till 7:30 am! The espresso barista may be on duty a little earlier—but he expects high percentage tips.
Lunch (typically upstairs and if it’s warm, on our deck) is choice time—he’ll opt at times for soup (lentil, veggie, or tomato basil), sandwiches (toasted cheese, plant-based meat, PB&J), or whatever leftovers we might have from the night before. With chips: veggie or cauliflower straws or chips, thank you.
Dinner (also typically upstairs) is whatever the cook here decides to make. All plant-based, mostly organic, with plenty of veggies—ranging from pastas, to potatoes, to rice, to hot cakes, to stir fry, to pizza! New brands are getting creative in their plant-based meats and although they are processed foods, we love them; Dad does enjoy plant-based ‘chicken’ strips, ‘fish’ nuggets, ‘sausage,’ and ‘hamburger’ patties. And so, so much yummy more!
Dessert (typically anywhere he wants it)—yes please.
“You’re not gonna forget dessert, are you?”
“No Dad. You won’t let us.”
He’s being kept a nice supply of Kristin’s chocolate chip/peanut butter cookies (only one a day though!) along with amazing varieties of vegan ice cream! (Don’t knock it until you try it! We recommend a Ben and Jerry’s flavor that suits your fancy—look for the green non-dairy top. You KNOW you want to now!).
Snacks—okay, here’s the deal: along with the creation of an 83 year old cookie monster, during the day, we also have on our hands a veggie straws connoisseur! No more potato chips or CheezeIts. He now demands a never-ending bowl of veggie or cauliflower straws next to the recliner; and next to his chair on the deck; and in his walker; and pool side (but not even Dad has earned the right to eat them when he’s IN the pool!); and on the console in the truck during errands…*sigh.
Did I mention THE MAN CAN STILL EAT?
T plus…OH WAIT, HOW THE HECK COULD I FORGET???
“Got any cookies left? You’re not gonna forget my cookie, are you?”
What the hell…he’s earned it.
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I think an important part of Eldering, from those who’ve gone ahead of us and are working to continue to “make” us through the nourishment of their words, actions, and wisdom, is to guide us, from their wisdom, in all manner of consumption—everything we consume alchemically turns into “us” through ALL our senses. I think indigenous, First Nations, Native, and Aboriginal cultures have always had this right—our bodies are the sacred temples of Soul and spirit and as such must be kept as pure and clean as possible, ideally with as close a connection to Mother Earth as we can get. Dad’s ingesting that ‘way of being’ now—I can say, with absolute certainty, mom never paid that close attention to the health of our food growing up (fried baloney and spam after school anyone?). So, here now, we are not doing what they did, we are doing what they didn’t do. And that’s okay.
It’s just another form of Eldering.
Meat-eater to a vegan: “where do you get your protein?“
Vegan to the meat-eater: “from the same place your protein gets theirs!”
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T plus 26 days … and eating, er, counting! Pass the celery Dad. And the oatmilk.
Hey all, before you go, do you have any cookies?
(Dad, go back to sleep.)
As always your newsletter makes me smile and laugh. I look forward to the next story, experience, the next conversation between you and your dad. You are letting us meet him, get to know him, and love him from afar, and appreciate you for your life lessons. Rock stars! All of you! Hurray!
Thank you for your dad’s story…I think you are on your way to being an author! Maybe you ought to consider that in your retirement years! Vegan?…..not sure for me…but I’m enjoying reading about your dad eating it. He would starve otherwise? Right??? 😉Janet RoyKnautz