Little Story #7

The mommie did a lot of dieting when I was growing up. She drank various liquid diet thing like Metrical while the rest of us ate dinner. My grandmother was not feelin it. She thought dieting was unhealthy. On exercise her ideas were very clear. She'd sit up in bed. Do some arm circles. Sort of touch her toes. I think there might have been one more thing. Then she'd say - that's all you need!
Of course we lived in a house that required steps to get into, steps to get to the bathroom, steps to get to the laundry machines. For some time Grandmom didn't have a drier so she hauled laundry up the steps from the basement and then up more steps to the upper back yard where the lines were. She also gardened and cleaned. Her life had natural exercise.
Grandmom had bridge club once a month. I'd walk in from school and the ladies would discuss my weight. They'd squeeze my arm and say - she's big but she's solid. They'd talk about the possible reasons for my weight. I ate too much. It might be my thyroid. I didn't get enough exercise. Grandmom would smile, give me a kiss and say - she's fine.
When I was eleven or twelve I was inspired by Teen magazine to go on my own diet. I put the page of what to eat every day on the refrigerator. The mommie helped me make Jello for my dessert. Grandmom was not happy.
Grandmom and I were at the bakery where we got our bread and occasional dessert. She decide to buy eclairs. I love eclairs but I told her not to buy me one. I reminded her about my diet. She said it wasn't healthy for me to be on a diet and bought me one anyway.
I sat at one end of the table and my Poppop sat at the other. Grandmom was on one side and the mommie was on the other. Grandmom would pour tea, hand me the cup and I'd pass it to the mommie, she'd pass it to Poppop. And then one more from Grandmom to me to the mommie. That night the eclairs were on the table from the beginning. With each cup of tea she pushed my eclair toward me and I'd push it back. With every serving dish she'd push the eclair toward me and I'd push it back. When I was done eating I asked the mommie if I could be excused and she said yes. I carried my dishes into the kitchen. That eclair sat in our kitchen until it rotted. No one else was allowed to eat it.
I've read a few things lately about the shame that fat women feel. Even women with a strong critique of body politics. I felt that shame from time to time but it was a never a default. My grandmother's strong belief in the idea that my body was OK just the way it was lives in me still.
On my maternal side I am a generationally fat woman. The mommie was taller and fatter than her mom and I am taller and fatter than she was.
If I'm in a bakery and see an eclair I usually buy it. But only really good ones. And only ones with custard.