I dreamt about my maternal grandma the other night. She had a fall or a hemorrhage, something serious. Then, there was a blur of my parents hurriedly packing a suitcase, announcing they were flying to
My strongest memories of her were the way she rapped her chopsticks on the dinner table, scolding me for holding mine improperly, or how I could never understand anything she said, her Cantonese masked in a thick village accent. I got into trouble when she asked a question that required a detailed answer, like, “What time is it?” I’d look at her dumbfounded, begin to nod hesitantly, as if I knew what I was doing, but she'd get angry because a bobbing head had nothing to do with the time. She gave up, threw her arms up in the air and let out a sigh of exasperation (in my defense, my dad also couldn't discern what she said either and got the same punishment).
I’ve been working in nursing homes for the past months and I love love LOVE it. The older age group is enjoyable to work with, their gratefulness and big smiles make my day. Even though sometimes they act like children, (picky with their food, refuse to sit with so and so, call each other nasty names, require a nurse to spoon feed all their meals and drinks), there's also the heartbreaking stories of families who dump their parents into a nursing home--against their will--or the seniors who rarely get a visit from their families and stay in their room, alone with a TV. It bothers me that some people could treat their parents with neglect and disrespect.
There
are a few patients that I spend extra time with, they have a great sense of
humour and I know how lonely they are. One lady always looks like she just came
from the hairstylist, envious grey curls sit on her head and twinkly blue eyes
that sparkle when she talks about her husband. She flashed me by accident once
and giggled, “Oops! Didn’t mean for that to pop out!” Other days, she weeps,
complaining about her pain. I know it’s not only physical pain, but loneliness
too, so I take her hand and soothe her with some hot tea. Spending time with old folks makes me think of my grandparents. My grandpa died
young with a sudden bout of pneumonia and my grandma suffers from Alzheimer’s
disease that is so advanced, she barely recognizes my mom. I like to think
being at the nursing homes make up for the time I didn't have with my
grandparents.
On a happier note, I have a soft spot for Oreos: Oreo cheesecake, Oreo milkshake, crushed Oreos in my McFlurry, a plate of Oreos with milk while watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory. I’ve tried making homemade Oreos before but they ended up looking like monster whoopee pies, the cookie was too fluffy and lacked that signature snap. These cookies however, are crispy and intensely chocolatey and make a fine accompaniment to creamy vanilla filling (or a chocolate filling for a double chocolate threat).
The filling by itself is too buttery and cloying sweet but slathered between chocolate cookies, they are perfect. My favourite part is the oozing filling with each greedy bite. They make spectacular Valentine’s Day treats too; use heart-shaped cookie cutters or add a few drops of red food coloring to the filling to make pink-filled Oreos. If I brought my grandma a few of these, she'd interrogate me, "What kind of cookies were they? What was in them? How did I make them? When did I make them?" I'd just tell her to give them a try and without a doubt, she would love them and eat two or three all at once, her blood sugar skyrocketing.
