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A Memory of Pie

Yes, it's time for my annual blog post about pie.


Back in high school, I worked as a dietary aide in a small senior care facility. Our residents got good care. Not the fanciest in town, but the folks who worked there cared for the folks who lived there. We got to know one another.


One of our residents was a woman I'll call Gussie.* Gussie had experienced a stroke and struggled to speak. The dietary staff loved her because she was clearly kitchen-oriented. Gussie would come to the door in the afternoon and ask, "What's for dinner?" We had to remember to tell her what the "diabetic" menu was for the day, as she was on that plan even though it was commonly understood that she wasn't diabetic or even at risk of it.


Our cooks made tasty homemade desserts, but Gussie would get canned fruit, instead. She never complained even though I'm sure she noticed what her table mates were eating.


On holidays, though, the rules were relaxed. One Christmas Day Gussie came to the door and, in her quavering voice asked, "What's for dinner?" Terry, the cook, was pleased to be able to tell her we were serving turkey, potatoes, green beans, and pie.


Gussie was quiet for a moment and then, in as fervent a voice as she could muster, said, "Oh, I LIKE pie."


I still hold that moment in my heart over 35 years later.


How I wish we could have given that dear lady pie every day. I can only imagine that her life had taken a sharp turn with the stroke, and now she was denied even the simple pleasures of dessert. It was a relief to all of us in the kitchen to give her pie, too. We cared for her and wanted her to be happy.


Let us share an abundance of pie and kindness with those we encounter this Thanksgiving and every day.


Personal photo. No, I don't Insta, why do you ask?


* Names and some details have been adjusted for privacy.

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