Dear Prudence,
My mom was a size two my whole life, but constantly on a diet trying to get down to the size she was when she met my dad. She’s in her early 70s, and a few months of persistent pain turned into a string of medical appointments and a too-late cancer diagnosis. She’s now in hospice. I think my problem is that I need to come to terms with this—it all happened so quickly. But I’m focused on her eating and the way she talks so transparently about it now to not just me but my 11 and 12-year-old daughters.
She’s tiny now from illness, and constantly talks (without irony) about how she’s delighted to finally hit her goal weight. Hospice nurses explicitly tell her she can have anything she wants: dressing on her salad, a beer with breakfast, cigarettes, whatever. But she’s still dieting. She’s dying and can diet if she feels like it but I’m irrationally angry that she won’t even have cream in her coffee (which used to be a birthday treat for her) when it doesn’t matter. Honestly, I’d even be relieved if she took up smoking again, just to have an indulgence. How do I let this go? And how do I talk about it to my kids, who definitely knew she had some weird thoughts about food but are now getting the unfiltered version from my childhood live and in color? I want to make some good memories before her death, and I know I can’t if I keep harping on food. Why is she making herself suffer more than she has to?
—An Ice Cream Cone Is Fine