Mom, my sister, her son and I visited Dad in the hospital after having our Sunday “dinner,” which was actually lunch. Either way, I knew our visit would be long since Mom liked staying until Dad had his dinner around 5:30.
So, I packed my iPad to work on my digital illustrations while visiting with Dad. At 87, Dad takes multiple cat naps at the drop of a dime. He has never been much of a talker, which has been a great complement to Mom’s loquaciousness. Besides, there’s something lulling about a hospital room that induces sleep.
I was impressed how my nephew fell asleep, by lobbing his head backwards with a serious arc in his neck and shoulders while not falling over backwards. If I hadn’t witnessed the feat multiple times during our visit, I wouldn’t have believed that he had the flexibility to accomplish the pose.
After several hours ticked by, Dad finally received his dinner. Being a notoriously fast eater, I could have eaten up the entire tray in under 20 minutes.
Not Dad. He tantalizingly fed himself so slowly that I thought most of the food would slip off the fork before entering his mouth, which was why we encouraged him to use his spoon. Once his eating utensil finally arrived at its destination, Dad would then lay it to rest on his tray as he chewed.
Very good technique for anyone who’s trying to eat less. Yet, Mom and I encouraged Dad to pick up his spoon had continue eating. Periodically, he complained that he had to “rest.” As slowly as he ate, I was surprised that he felt taxed by the effort.
In the meantime, I was so hungry, I found myself watching Dad too intently. That slow arch of a food morsel lifted from his plate into his mouth. Although I’ve never been a sports fan, I redirected my eyes to watch the basketball game. March Madness helped distract me from temporary hunger madness.
Before we left the hospital, I requested that my sister make her famous ol’ fashioned popcorn on the stove. She was the only one out of us three sisters to inherit Mom’s love for cooking. As a matter of fact, I prefer to “cook” like my other older sister by ordering take out.
Mom also made a request: guacamole.
I immediately informed Mom that my request had come first. In actuality, my sister easily made both since neither one was a time-consuming process.
Just so happened, there were no good chips to pair with the guacamole. Of course, my nephew ate those stale potato chips with the dip. I, on the other hand, topped my bowl of popcorn with a dollop.
Absolutely delicious! How had I lived over half a century and not paired these two things before? Granted, chips are a better dip delivery system, but it’s not the only tasty one.
The guacamole didn’t quite bind the popcorn together like melted marshmallow-style popcorn balls, but that just helped to encourage me to eat slower, smaller bites and truly savor my food. The trick was to eat fast enough for the popcorn not to become soggy, but slow enough to enjoy.
I’m not exactly sure when I began “packing it in,” but I estimate over 30 years ago when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer. During that life chapter, I didn’t have to rush due to a time crunch. Upon reflection, I recognized that habit as a sign of depression. Even though I found healthier ways to deal with depression, for some reason, fast eating has remained with me.
I rationalize this habit during my 30-minute lunch break, stating that I don’t want to be late returning to work. Yet, when I had an hour-long lunch break, I ate just as fast. Even when not at work or when I’m not consciously thinking about it, I eat quickly. I’ve conditioned myself not to savor my food.
Sure, I acknowledge when something’s delicious. That edible pleasure hasn’t escaped me, regardless of my eating speed. Yet now, there’s always another thing to do. Whether it’s returning to work, or finishing laundry after Saturday morning breakfast, or working on some creative project.
I used to think that eating at a slower pace was a retirement habit. Now that I don’t think I’ll be in the position to retire, my next experiment will be to eat slower with less food on my plate. That way, I won’t feel the need to pack it in as quickly given whatever time frame I have. Also, 20 minutes has to pass before the brain registers that your no longer hungry.
Perhaps that science will help remedy my panicked eating…along with prioritizing savoring my food and “resting” like Dad does.