– Would you like some tea, Dad?
– If you can spare it, Mrs. Ormiston.
He says, mimicking memories of his paternal grandmother driving his mother nuts.
His hands reach for his neck, his head and body shoot backwards, his mouth wide open, he says,
– I’m dying of vitamin poisoning.
On the menu for today, a banana, blueberry, applesauce smoothie with ground flax seeds for breakfast and homemade roasted vegetable soup with Moosewood baba ganoush and tortilla chips for lunch.
After a decade of Commercial Drive health food stores and hippy-esque, nutritionally aware, yoga practitioners for friends, I know about kale, quinoa, coconut oil, almond milk and the dangers of white death sugar.
Though lacking in self-discipline to succeed in a gluten-free, vegan diet where fruit is suspect and raw is preferred, I do aspire to a life-promoting diet and as such caring for Dad cultivates some interesting culinary experiments.
In order to help him overcome the loss of constant meat and potatoes, I bring him Oreos and homogenized milk for dessert.
Alzheimer’s patients are said to have a sweet tooth. This may account for the empty buckets of ice cream I come home to when I return from the mainland.
– Would you like anything else, Dad?
– Just one more cookie.
He says, holding up three fingers.