Making Juice for Mom

How I care for her in subtle, sneaky, loving ways

Mother and Child by Shefali O’Hara — Original Art

My mother always gave me a treat when I came home from school. A lot of times, instead of a cookie, it would be a cleverly designed fruit or vegetable. For example, sometimes she’d mash a banana into yogurt and sprinkle with a little bit of sugar or honey. Or she’d make gajar no halwa, an Indian treat made of grated carrots, flavored with cardamom, sprinkled with nuts, shaped like a cookie bar. Or she’d tempt me with an apple sprinkled with cinnamon or shelled pistachios. She liked to give me a treat I enjoyed but only occasionally was it something as devoid of nutritional value as a cookie.

My Mom took good care of me, even when she sometimes had to “trick” me into eating a healthier option.

Now she lives with me, and our roles are reversed.

For example, I just made fresh juice.

This is something I started to do when I got cancer. I credit my recovery partially to the gallons upon gallons of freshly squeezed juice I drank during that time. To be fair, my ex was usually the one making it for me, particularly when I was bedridden. He typically gave me three 12-ounce glasses of juice a day along with a shot of wheat-grass juice in the morning. Now that was an experience. His devotion to me at the time was so deep, he drank one…