108) Currencies of Love

My grandmother on my mother's side uses food as an expression of love. I went down to Seal Beach yesterday to visit her, and within the first five minutes of my arrival, I had a glass of juice in one hand, a nectarine in the other, and a plate of rice cakes hovering nearby. She's always pushing unreasonably large amounts of food your way, to the point where a hint of exasperation starts to creep into your fifteenth refusal.

After I'd eaten, we went to see my grandfather at his Alzheimer's care facility. While he's lost the ability to do most things on his own, he maintains a voracious appetite. My grandmother came armed with a lunch box full of food. He ate with his hands as a child does, working his way through pieces of fruit, duk (rice cake), and a protein shake. Every now and then, my grandmother would reach over, take a piece of fruit and pretty much force it into his already full mouth. At first I couldn't understand why she would want to put him in danger of choking - it was clear from his bulging cheeks that he had plenty in there already. But she can't help herself. She loves him, and that is her way of showing it. Plain and simple.

Currencies of love, both positive and perhaps detrimental in excess. I think there's something worth exploring here. To be continued.