Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Christmas cookies.

Every year during the holidays, my mother made cookies. And we're not talking just two or three batches of cookies... My mother's goal was to make as many different varieties of cookies as she possibly could. I remember holidays with fourteen to fifteen different types of cookies lined up in colorful tins on the book shelf. We each had our favorites, of course, and quite often those tins would be empty by Christmas while others were still full. My Dad, in particular, liked peanut butter cookies with chocolate kisses baked on top.

Not being as dedicated, or crazy, as my mom, I usually make three types of cookies during the holidays; two of my favorites, and peanut butter cookies for Dad. Each year, however, Dad has been less and less aware of the holiday in general, and of cookies in particular. This year, as in past years, I brought over a box of my Dad's favorite cookie because I enjoy seeing him enjoy them. Unlike past years, though, this year Dad's caregiver had to feed the cookie to Dad while he sat on the couch, staring straight ahead.

I have no idea what his taste buds are like or what food messages are getting to his brain. It makes me sad to see that he can no longer feed himself, indeed seems somewhat indifferent to food. This whole process makes me sad, and the question always comes up; am I doing these things for him of for me? I can only hope that he enjoyed his cookie and on some level remembered them and the happiness of past holidays.

1 comment:

  1. I just lost my dad this last Nov...believe me when I say will never ever regret making him those cookies or anything else! Looking forward to reading your past and future posts.