2003 went from Halloween to Thanksgiving to Christmas with all the usual junk food everywhere. I did my part eating it and probably ate more than anyone else. That was mostly because I self-medicated with food. If I was happy, I celebrated by eating. Sad? I ate. Depressed? I ate constantly. The scales showed it. I quit weighing. I didn’t want to know how much I weighed.
DD and I would talk and if food came up in the conversation, I’d skirt the subject. I didn’t want to talk about her and merm eating raw food. To me, it was totally unacceptable and I wouldn’t be a party to my flesh and blood ruining her health. I couldn’t approve of the plan but, until I knew more, I couldn’t totally disapprove. She was an adult and I had to have more on my side than “Because I said so. That’s why.”
I started Googling but I couldn’t find much. What I did find was even more unsettling. Men with wild hair and women who looked like holdovers from the hippie generation were touting the raw food lifestyle. Yikes! Was my daughter going to become one of THEM? It was like the pot calling the kettle black because I had once been a flower child, myself.
When DH had left, I’d learned to phase things out that bothered me. That’s what I’d do with her latest craze. I would ignore it. If I ignored it long enough, it would go away.
I had other fish to fry—no, not literally. Every April on the day before Easter, the church at the university puts on a pageant known as Sonrise. It is quite a production. One year, DS1 got me a ticket (they’re free but they go fast) and I went as a regular on-looker. However, if one dresses in the fashion of the Bible days, one gets in without a ticket. Those people are known as “travelers”. I decided I’d be One of Them.
My sheets were either flowered or pastel and not appropriate for making the robe and head-covering of the era so I bought a solid colored sheet and several yards of fabric. The pattern was on the Sonrise web site so I set to work. Mine would have be full enough to pitch for a small tent since I would have to have room for my considerable bulk.
Sewing is not my “thing” so it was a great relief for it to be over. The weekend came and I was at DS1’s house. We decided when we would be traveling since there are multiple starting times to accommodate the crowds. We’d eat lunch and go after that.
We all got dressed in our garb and looked like we’d stepped out of a movie set.
The day was rather hot for April so my granddaughter had to shed her robe for something more comfortable.
Next came Mother’s Day and I had a card made for my mother with The Travelers on the front. She never commented. Even though she was nearing her 100th year, I knew she couldn’t have not recognized us. She was that way, though. Once when she was visiting, I fixed one of our favorite dishes and bragged that many people had asked for the recipe. She fixed me with her beady-eyed gaze and all she said was, “I won’t.” ‘Nuff said.
As the months crawled by, I dodged any reference to eating raw food. I was quite content to eat my lasagna with garlic cream sauce and the apple turnovers with whipped cream for dessert. Oh, I’d eat a salad with my meal and I had always loved fruit but eat a diet of raw food? Never!