Family Food Lore

When I was hospitalized as a teenager, my dad would come to visit me at dinner time. The hospital food they gave me was awful, seriously terrible. Rubberized pork chops, cold mashed potatoes and cooked carrots. There is no food I hate more than cooked carrots. My dad would sit with me and eat my food for me so the nurses wouldn't give me trouble for not eating. He didn't really know how else to show he cared that I was in hospital in the first place.

We would do the same when we visited other sick friends in the hospital. Bring chocolate or cookies and fruit then share them. Our family would bring Christmas dinner to the long term care facility and enjoy food and fun with my grandmother with Alzheimer's.

Families see food as a way to heal and to show we love each other.

We all have stories in our family about food. The chicken soup that grandma makes that can make anyone feel better, the day Uncle Bob started eating again and we all knew he would survive, turkey dinners mean that family is coming over and the house will be filled with love.

It can make things very confusing and difficult when a loved one at the end of life stops eating. We know from our family lore that food means love and health. It can be devastating when families aren't able to provide one of the few comforts that they know how to give.

Families often want to use what many health care providers consider to be extra-ordinary measures to prevent their loved one from starving. This includes tubes from nose to stomach or a tube inserted into the stomach or intestine through the skin which requires surgery. I've spent quite a lot of time explaining to families that at the end of life we don't really care if we are eating. When the family pushes for tubes, I ask them about the food lore in their family. Through that conversation we are able to find other aspects aside from the food that made the interaction loving.

Having my dad with me despite his hatred of hospitals was a huge deal. Singing songs with my cousins was wonderful. The story of the magic soup doesn't need the soup to be told. Memories of Christmas dinners are as much about the conversation and weird dates as the turkey. Holding hands, hugging, kissing and laughing are as much a part of family food lore as the food itself.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad