an essay on gluttony
5:29 p.m. - 2003-06-24
One of my uncles made a remark to me when I was at the family reunion. It was something that made a lot of things click for me. He is not a blood uncle. He is married to my oldest aunt, and he is legally blind. He is full of piss and vinegar, and he is one of my favorite uncles. At the last gathering in Arkansas, we were preparing for a meal that was to commence at 12:00. My mother likes to make remarks like this during preparation, "Tell me if you need any help, and I'll send Laurie in." Oh ho ho. What a clever mother. Anyway, around 10:30 someone came in with a big pot of chicken dumplings. My mom starts going nuts. She lifts the lid and yells, "OH HUSH YOUR MOUTH!" Everyone says, "Go ahead and eat if you are hungry." She says, "I'm not hungry at all." Next thing you know, she's pulling her chair up to a steaming bowl of chicken dumplings. I nudged my uncle and said, "Look. She's eating a bowl of dumplings when she said she wasn't even hungry." He said to me in his low, scratchy voice, "Your mother is a glutton. She always has been." That rang so true. It's so true that it's amazing I never realized it. I mean, she will take food right off my daughter's plate. Everytime I see her, she is eating. Everytime. Sometimes, she repulses me. The worst thing about it is that she is constantly sick. She says it's a virus, but I know it's because of the way she eats. I won't tell you the details, but let's just say I often find myself cleaning (like yesterday) and disinfecting her bathroom walls. The walls, my friend. Yes, that is what I said. Well, you can't change someone who is 74 years old. I am trying to help her eat better, though.