Hello, Future? Goodbye, Past.

My grandmother just celebrated her 100th birthday in March.  I agonized over which outfit to wear to her party, which would be a sort of mini-family reunion.  How could I disguise the extra 75 pounds I carried? 

I'd meant to start a diet in plenty of time, knowing that my grandmother's birthday was approaching.  Then I'd eat half a package of Oreos in one fell swoop and determine in my chubby little heart that I'd start my diet the following Monday. 

You know how it goes.  Put off the diet, vow to start next week and before you know it, you are stuffing your jelly-belly into a stretchy pair of black pants, pairing it with a black shirt and hoping no one will notice that you are fat.

And so I pretended that I wasn't carrying the equivalent of seven and a half 10-pound bags of potatoes on my medium-boned frame.  (Have you picked up ten pounds of potatoes lately?  I'm carrying the weight of six full bags on my bones!  Geez!  No wonder my back hurts!)  I topped all the black with a lavender cardigan, twirled in front of the mirror and said, "Well, it could be worse." 

I didn't know exactly how much worse it really was until I saw the photograph my mother took of me while I stood next to my cousin's wife, a petite woman my age who stands shoulder high to me.  She has been tiny since I first met her in college and could probably fit her entire body into one of my pant legs.  The contrast between us made me see just how fat I really was.  [I will post that picture as soon as I confiscate it from my mother.]

I joked afterward that if my grandmother could just hang on for six more months, I could lose some weight and possibly neutralize the embarrassment I felt at being super-fat at the birthday party by being thinner at her funeral.  (I know.  Sick joke, but we're kind of like that in my family.)

So, I planned a new diet.  I picked a starting date.  As fate would have it, I chose the day after Easter.  On Easter, my mother and my grandmother joined us for dinner, a delectable, decadent meal which I packed full of butter, sugar, flour, and fat.  (By the end of the day, I was packed full of butter, sugar, flour and fat myself.)

After our meal, I walked my mom and grandma to the car . . . which took a long time.  Grandma's joints are worn out and she hobbles painfully at a snail's pace.  My mother has a cane now, too, due to arthritis.  I knelt and gingerly lifted my grandmother's foot into the car and she winced from the pain.  My mother grimaced from her aches and pains, too. 

I said to them, "I see my future right here . . . and I'm scared!"  They both laughed at my lame joke, but I was not kidding.  Both of them have fretted about their weight all their lives and neither of them has been very physically active (although my grandmother's early life was full of the physical drudgery of housewifery in the early 1900s).  I am the lucky recipient of both their genetics and their attitudes toward food.

My mother is only twenty-two years older than me.  And while twenty-two years sounds like a long time, my past twenty-two years have flown by in a flash of busyness, good intentions and overindulgence.  The next twenty-two years will be gone in a snap. 

I don't want to be clutching a cane and avoiding staircases in twenty-two years.  I'd like to be an active grandmother, the kind who can hike with her grand-kids and crawl on the carpet with them.  I want to take walks with my husband and take the stairs instead of an elevator. 

I want to be strong and healthy.  I don't want my body to limit my activities.  At some point, weight becomes less about fitting into the jeans you wore in college and more about health. (But, of course, I would like to look cute in a pair of jeans again.)

So, the day after I saw my future, I said good-bye to sugar and white flour.  And I didn't even shed a tear. 

Comments

[Rebecca]

you go, girl! i don't even know you and i'm so proud. rebecca.

[Carmen]

Mel, I've had that same realization wrt my mom and grandmom lately. I don't WANT to be 56 and avoiding the stairs.

I'm proud of you for making the connection.

[Sue]

My Mom and Grandma were both terribly handicapped by their weight before death took them due to other causes.
Caring for them in their final illnesses as heavy as they were was a never ending challenge. (One I did willingly) It was eye opening for me.
Extra weight in my family is almost a sure sentence for diabetes, so I do everything I can to avoid that.
Good luck to you Mel! It's not easy, but it's worth it...

[Kvetch]

Yes, what is it about starting a diet on Monday? I think I'll start. Today. Thanks.

[BigSlice]

Gross Obesity runs in my family, as does Osteoporosis. I was told by my OB-GYN that the misery I felt with aching back and joints and the swelling and the digestive issues of full-term pregnancy were a good precursor of my life at 50. It is horrific to imagine.

[Mary]

Genetics was one reason I decided to take my weightloss seriously too. My grandma was very overwieght and diabetic. I also have polycystic ovarian syndrome, which makes you at risk for diabetes, so I've got a double whammy.

The main reason hubby and I decided to go for it right now, though, is because we will be living in Tanzania in a few years (Lord willing), where there is not a lot of health care. As far as we're concerned, this is preventative medicine so that the potential of poor health will not get in the way of our ministry several years down the line. It's good to have these kinds of motivations in mind and to KEEP them in mind!!!

[Kim]

I wish you luck. I've lost 25 lobs in 2 months on a medically supvervised diet called Optifast offered by my Kaiser health plan. It's very expensive but it's working.

[Kvetch]

Two comments in one post. Is this legal? I started this morning w/ whole wheat pita and low fat cheese. And a Hershey Bar. I'm definitely missing a beat here. :-)

[Michelle]

You'd be proud of me, we have celebrated two birthdays IN my house in two weeks and I(drum roll please)threw AWAY the left over chocolate cake with cream cheese vanilla filling! It is in the trash! (Minus one finger lick of frosting) But my mother is suffering from diabites too and it runs strong in my family - we have got.to.stop.somewhere!