Today, was the first time I actually had a pomegranate. Sure, I drank pomegranate juice before. Getting at the seeds looked like too much of a hassle. Too much work for so little reward. Gulping down a mouthful of juice, yeah that was where it was at.
Some weeks ago I saw some pomegranates at a corner store for $1.29 and made a mental note to buy two. One for me and one for my dad. You see, dad has been suffering from dementia for some time now. I have tried to engage him with new but simple experiences through food. As with any change of his diet, I googled and found that pomegranate just like grapefruit would be a contraindication to his heart medication. The vitamin K in pomegranate is not needed in his diet.
That was the plan. Dad is now in a nursing home. The plans we have get abruptly shifted.
You see, becoming a copywriter would have allowed me the freedom to assist my dad. I wanted to work from home. It’s because of my dad that I was able to get the training as a copywriter. He wanted to be with me and I with him.
An Haitian aide at the nursing home so richly coined the creole phrase, “You are your dad’s walking stick.”
Now he’s in the hands of others.
Another aide encouraged me to bring food for him. It won’t be the same. You see it was just a few steps from the kitchen to the dining room table.
Yes, eating a pomegranate takes some time. Much like caring for a loved one who can no longer do much for themselves. Dad’s diaper changes, bathing, getting him into bed, trying to get him to verbalize his feelings took time. Getting dad up early and bathed in the mornings, I was always met with, “I’ll do it later.” I had temp. jobs to get to and would say back , “Dad your going to make me late for work.” He always shrugged his shoulders.
As I sat and dug into the pomegranate it was much like savoring each time I had reached out to my dad. It took time to get at those tiny seeds.
I am on the couch with my pomegranate, I look across and the hospital bed in the living room is empty. Hoping to see dad there, instead, I reach down and place a pomegranate seed in my mouth.
Thanks dad. You’ve done all you could.
Every time I eat a pomegranate I’ll always be reminded of all my father has done for me. One seed at a time.
It takes time to eat a pomegranate.