February 9, 2011

365. 40 Fibonacci -- What My Father Learned in Trinidad -- Revised

Always the Teacher

1    As
1    my
2    father lay
3    dying, he spoke
5    of delicious treats. My daughter
8    explained that, because of his stroke, the doctors
13   feared he'd choke, and so he wasn't permitted liquids. He didn't understand.  "It
21  will hurt your throat if you try to swallow water," said Jennifer.  Daddy pondered. Minutes later he said, "What about a
34   banana?"
           Mother snorted when I reported the conversation to her.  "He never ate bananas. He always said our bananas were rotten."
           The reason?  We eat Cavendish bananas, that familiar grocery store staple with yellow
55   skin and pale fruit.  The varieties Daddy preferred were grown in Trinidad, where he was stationed after the war (the big war; World War II).  He gave Jennifer directions for preparing same:  melt butter, slice green bananas, saute until tender. Take note, because a virus has struck the Cavendish and soon we'll all complain and saute.
                                                       by Mary Cartledgehayes

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