The Case of the Missing Fruit

With no teeth, my mother-in-law finds it difficult to fulfill her favourite occupation: eating.  In particular, it is very difficult for her to eat fruit.  The matriarch likes to keep fruit up in her room to let it ripen, soften up; then, she peels whatever and eats it.  Not really a problem, one thinks.  However, as her gums are softening, the fruit is becoming harder to eat.  My husband, home for two weeks holiday, tends to agree with his mother and this has become quite the bone of contention between us. However, I know he has noticed that even soft bananas can be too hard for the matriarch.  But, the sad truth is there is nothing we can do.  It is only a matter of time till my mother-in-law is no longer on a solid diet and, as a fully functional adult, she must hate this reality.  I know I would.  But I also think my husband finds this truth unbearable; the bread I buy is too dense; the fruit is not ripe enough; the vegetables are not cooked thoroughly; the meat is too tough.  Yet, he knows as he watches her struggle through dinner that I am right.  Her favourite foods tend to be cereals, defrosted strawberries or raspberries, and soups or stews.

The matriarch puts him through a particular type of hell when she tells him she really can't wait for the McIntosh apples to come in; the Galas, the Red Delicious and the early Macs are all too hard and don't ripen and he tries to assuage her by saying the 'real' Macs are on their way.  But I really don't think they will be any different; this year's cantaloupes were too hard and homemade Danishes were too densely baked.  I don't really know what that means except they are, yet, one more thing she cannot eat.  Nectarines and Peaches age in her room, almost to the point of softness and fruit flies, and then she eats them. It is uncomfortable to tell my mother-in-law only a couple of pieces of fruit at a time in her room; I'd rather do the double duty with the bowls of fruit every morning and afternoon then worry about the soft fruit turning to rot.  I think she knows, too, the fruit can't keep but it is an elephant in the room we don't mention.