“All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.” -Charles M. Schulz
Mom had a new aide who I happened to call one morning because I needed to let mom know, something. The new aide was wondering about EVERYTHING. Having never been to the house before he had not worked with Mom prior, and at this point, mom was beginning to struggle with communications. The aide was a bit perplexed. He was said, “I offered your mom breakfast, but she didn’t seem to want any, but she ate chocolate.” My reply was, “chocolate is breakfast.” And it was.
Every morning since her diagnosis, Mom has chocolate with her coffee. In recent months, as the swallowing has gotten worse and as her ability to use her body has changed we have to help her more and more but, for years chocolate was breakfast, and I had been fairly certain that Chocolate would be breakfast until she died.
Chocolate for breakfast has also been a guiding post. As Mom has progressed, her morning (and Chocolate routine) have constantly been revised. In the first year of PSP, Mom would sit in the kitchen with her coffee and chocolates. These times I would visit with her, update her about the week and as she progressed from walker to wheelchair and decreased vision and verbal communication I would read her snippets from the mail or news. In the second year of PSP, I would always say to her, “I gotta’ peel your chocolate for you.” So, when she was still at home, in the morning after we came out of the bathroom, I put her coffee in her mug and stirred in the thickener, and then I added the correct amount of cream. During those days, I would bring her coffee and a handful of peeled chocolates to the living room. As she began to work on her coffee, I would peel a handful of Hersey’s kisses and place them on the lid where she could reach them.
In the nursing home, I became obsessed with peeling chocolates for mom. I put five in a small cup and make small “single serve” cups of peeled chocolates. I make her these cups of peeled chocolate whenever my hands need something to do. So, by the time I left for the day I had created a row of soldier cups holding their five peeled kisses waiting for my mom. Then Mom started having aspiration, and it was just not safe for her to eat alone.
So, now, when I am there after lunch, I open her nightstand drawer and locate the Chocolate kisses I know she has there, and I peel a few. Two for mom, one for me. Chocolate is no longer breakfast, but, when I open the drawer and pull out the kisses Mom’s eyebrows raise in her new happy look. I place a tissue on her table, and I place the peeled chocolate on it.
I am not sure what the next chocolate routine will be. I am sure that as it changes, I will look back and miss the old ones (as I always do). But, I also know that as long as she is able to swallow, Mom will always have some form of Chocolate at some point during the day- even if we have to puree it. Chocolate for breakfast (or after lunch) is one small pleasure that Mom gets and it is not one that one of us would ever deny her.