Grapefruit, the metaphor

I am haunted by something.

I wasn't going to write about it, because we've already spent too much time in the kitchen in this space. But I can't get it out of my mind, and so, this seems like the only way...

Saturday morning I was at the kitchen counter preparing the grapefruit I had been dreaming of for breakfast. I am fairly meticulous in my grapefruit preparation. Every cut is precise. No part of the fruit is wasted. If I have to dig even one cell out with my spoon because of a missed cut, the whole experience is ruined for me. I had just finished when May showed up with her own grapefruit and knife. She placed hers on the counter next to mine, looked at me and said, "Now, how do I do this?"

Right away I saw trouble. She was poised to cut the fruit on its axis. There's no recovering once you make that mistake. I said, first of all, you have to cut along the equator. I turned it for her. To make sure, I made the cut myself. Then I said, cut this way (circumference) and this way, twice on each cell (radius). She nodded and I took my grapefruit to the TV room.

She joined me a few minutes later and we sat side-by-side, eating our breakfast. I was just finishing when she said she couldn't eat any more. Said she was full.

Full of grapefruit?

I looked over and saw half a grapefruit untouched, and another half mangled and battered. I told her I would eat the good half. When she passed it over to me, all I could do was stare. It was heartbreaking. The circumference cuts were all over the place. They strayed far from the rind, leaving valuable pulp unavailable to the spoon. The radial cuts were hit and miss. One side of a cell might be cut, but not the other, which makes the cell flip to one side when you try to dig it out. But that's not what bothered me.

All I could think was, this is her brain I'm looking at. This is what has happened to her cerebral cells. The precision is gone. Everything is approximate, a hopeful push to get it right, with guesswork for a guide and dexterity shot all to hell. And it's never going to get better. Only worse.