Sometimes the strangest things pop out of the darkest corners of Mother's memory. She has trouble feeding herself, so as often as I can, I time my visits around meals so that I can help feed her. When I arrive, the aides often say she isn't eating very well. I pull up a chair and begin visiting with her. I tell her every little thing about my day as I put bite after bite in her mouth. She smiles and chews, and before long she has finished most of her meal.
Most days, she is not sure who I am. I tell her I am her daughter. I tell her my name and she looks puzzled. Sometimes she will nod. Sometimes she thinks I am one of my sisters. Mostly, she is smiles her beautiful smile and eats mechanically.
Yesterday evening I was feeding Mother the ham, potato salad and marinated pea salad on her plate. I talked about picnics and the fantastic potato salad she used to make. I asked her if she liked the potato salad she was eating. "I don't know," she said. I gave her another bite.
"Is it good?" I asked.
"I don't know," she murmured.
She paused in her chewing, looked up and said, "McDonald's!"
In her later years, Mother had grown fond of a cheeseburger and fried from McDonald's. She loved them, and next to Chinese food, it was her favorite meal.
"Would you like a cheeseburger and fries from McDonald;s for lunch tomorrow," I asked.
Her face lit up. Her eyes got wide, and she smiled with a bit of potato salad clinging to her chin. She blinked her eyes quickly, she sign for yes, yes, yes.
So today, I know what I am having for lunch. Two cheeseburgers, two fries and two senior Cokes to go please. I am eating McDonald's at the home with Mother for lunch today. She will not remember the conversation from yesterday, but she will love the meal just the same, and I know it will make her smile.
