Sitting here freezing my ass off in my sister’s basement, my mind wandered to the thought of my grandparents and great grandparents. How lucky I was as a kid to have both sets of great grandparent and both sets of grandparents around. I got so much from each of them. Particularly an eating disorder.
“Sit. Eat.” They always said.
“But Grandma, we just left Beefsteak Charlie’s,” I protested. (Of course I didn’t have the heart to mention ‘pigging out’ at the endless shrimp bar.) I was no match for her and she made a point of ignoring me.
So we ate. Again.
Now I fill that empty pit I feel in my soul with food. It’s a wonder I’m not fat.
But I’ve veered dangerously off track. The point is I miss my grandparents who gave me so much more than an eating disorder: The unconditional love I felt from each of them is something for which I still yearn.