Chapter 15 - KEELY LEARNS TO EAT WITHOUT PERMISSION
Keely’s snack drawer lasted two years.
At first she checked it constantly.
Then less.
Eventually crackers stopped appearing in strange places.
One afternoon I found a granola bar under her pillow.
Old.
Months expired.
I held it up.
“You still need this?”
She looked embarrassed.
“Forgot.”
That was beautiful.
Forgot.
Not hidden for survival.
Just forgotten.
At seven, she asked:
“Why did Grandma not feed me?”
I answered carefully.
“She wanted me to sign something.”
“Why me?”
“Because she thought hurting you would make me change my mind.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
She smiled.
Then:
“Did I help?”
“No.”
Important.
“You were a kid. Adults were responsible.”
At eight, she refused a burger at a school picnic because it was burned.
Normal.
No panic.
She chose a hot dog.
Food became preference.
May you like
Not evidence.
That was healing.
