My mother’s nursing home informed she was not eating well as before.

Not having seen her during the pandemic — perhaps that was a contributing factor.

What is it that I could do aside from the practical? Irving Berlin’s What’ll I Do haunts and consoles me over the years of losing my mother in bits and pieces over the years

And now, this matter of her not eating...

It reminded me of a ditty discovered in a borrowed book five years ago.

The words typed on a piece of paper fell out just before I was ready to eat my midday meal.

An Affirmation to My Body:

I recognize you are the temple in which my spirit and creative energy dwell.

I have created you from my need to have my spirit manifest on earth so that I may have this time to learn and grow.

I offer you this food that you may continue to sustain my creative energy, my spirit, my soul.

I offer this food to you with love, and a sincere desire for you to stay in harmony.

I accept you as my creation.

I need you.
I love you.
(Author unknown)

My mother used to have us say grace at the table. The ritual became lost to me for decades for many reasons.

But reading this slip of paper reminded me of my ongoing relationship with my body. How many times do I harp on the imperfections of my flesh instead of the form and function I take for granted?

Could a silent expression of gratitude and love before eating be just as important to digestive health as probiotics, prebiotics, raw, vegan, wild-caught, grass-fed, nonGMO, glutenfree, Omega-this, Omega-that, and so forth? Why not?

So I'll place it in my lunch bag, maybe commit it to memory. Let's see.