A turnips, radish, and parsnip delight, Followed by dessert so sweet— Eggnog ice cream, golden crumpets, I’m full, content, complete. What a beautiful life!
“Right...! ” I try to explain it with chocolates that she(girlishly) keeps trying to eat.
I pick a luscious dark chocolate seahorse And I say “Now this is...” (and she finishes my sentence for me)
“...your hippocampus! ” She squeals... delighted with herself. “That’s correct! ” I praise her “...it’s shaped like this seahorse! ”
“And it controls your memories of you your “who you are”
your “how your self assembles its sense of self ...with all its past and future mysteries! ”
“Yes...yes...that’s it! She claps her hands thrilled to bits
by the familiar telling the reassurance of sounds. And this twisted twirl of almond with a real almond in the centre of it “... is your amygdala! ” She blurts out before me. “You got it” I smile.
“Everyone’s got one! a seahorse & an almond one on each side of our brain.”
“Now the almond tells you how to respond to the things that you’ve assembled into a sense of self
...with the proper emotion ...the right feeling. ...whether you just like or love it”
“Oh, I love it...I love it! ” She almost sings. “Now, explain it to me again! ” I give her the finished explanations and she eats them
with much exaggerated mmmmming & ohhhhhing. “I love your explanations about what’s wrong with my thingy” She knocks upon her head like it was a door to a self that she had locked herself outside of.
Most times she doesn’t even know her name or who or what she is. But she loves this story of HIPPOCAMPUS AND ITS FAITHFUL AMYGDALA
She loves each sound each word each letter each pause of the chocolate explanation.