32 Days of Christmas: Day 19
A lot of people have been saying my cheeks have filled out: that my belly always looks full, that my arms and shoulders have broadened. I never really realized how skinny I was until those comments started coming in.
I take no offense at all. They’re true. I look at myself in the mirror every morning. I’m not particularly proud of what I see, but I’m not disappointed either. It all came unexpectedly. I was simply going about my business, making merry like the rest of us.
But there’s an explanation.
If there’s anything I love about grandparents, it’s that they might treat their own children like adversaries, but never their grandchildren. We are their final flicker of hope in a world they’ve watched slowly erode. And the most important lesson—if any, since I’m not especially close to my grandmother like that—she’s ever given me is this: don’t forget to eat!
Study. Work your hands raw. Chase opportunity while wearing down the soles of your feet. Live your life away from the noise and chaos of skyscraper cities. Find a boring hobby and cling to it; it may be your last refuge when the world eventually collapses into war. Love your family and friends fiercely, even if they don’t always return it.
But above all, as you do all these things—eat.
Find a girl you like and eat with her.
Sit with friends and eat alongside them.
Food is the great unifier, a quiet language spoken by everyone.
She obviously never said any of this with such bravado. These lessons came to me slowly, over the years, often while we sipped hot porridge in agwatas beside a smoky hut. And of all of them, I chose to hold on to the most important one:
Don’t forget to eat.
✍🏽Reagan.