‘I am against nature. I don’t dig nature at all. I think nature is very unnatural. I think the truly natural things are dreams, which nature can’t touch with decay.’
~ Bob Dylan

After lasagna, there is little I can think of as being more typically American than the Twinkie.

Golden fluffiness, spongy delight, sugary sweetness…  made to survive a nuclear fallout.  What more could one want from an afternoon snack?

I was not allowed to have Twinkies as a child.  I was cursed/blessed? with a mother who felt that they weren’t good for me.  That they were unnatural, stuffed, not with creamy joy, but with  artificial flavors and artificial preservatives, and therefore should not be a part of my  body’s sustenance.

(She also sent me to school with sprout-stuffed pita-pocket sandwiches.  There’s  no kid who’s gonna trade their Twinkie for that!  So it was, indeed, a long time before I knew the true taste of the Twinkie…)

As it turns out, she was only partially right.  While it is true that there is very little that is natural about the Twinkie, only one of its 39 mostly-chemical ingredients is an actual preservative.  The rest simply replaced the milk and eggs and butter of the original recipe, in order to extend the shelf life.

Eventually, the Twinkie too shall pass.

As an adult, I don’t eat Twinkies either, and I am unsure whether or not my son has ever talked anyone into trading a part of his lunch for one…

No, I only think of them now as I contemplate life and death and the natural order of things…

Coroners and statisticians use the term ‘Unnatural Death’ to refer to death by something other than a natural cause.  And yet, it seems as if the rest of us feel that death itself  is the unnatural ingredient.

Unexpectedly dying in our sleep at the age of 87 with no prior pain or disease, we can accept as natural.  Any other scenario and we resist.   We agree to start swapping out our milk and eggs and butter for artificial replacements in the hope of extending our shelf life.

But what did those early Twinkies taste like?  When they might have just come out of your grandmother’s oven and the flavors of real butter and vanilla (rather than the petroleum-based artificial sort) spilled over your tongue?

(You could try making them at home, but I must warn you, that you will  have to consume them in a matter of days.)

In light of the Twinkie, I understand my partner’s opposition to treatment.  Who wants to exchange their own organic ingredients for chemo-therapies, irradiated tissues, artificial organs…?  And just to extend their life, not necessarily make it better…

Yet, he is nowhere near approaching 87 either, so the element of the unnatural lingers.

But is it dying that is not natural or is it our fight to avoid it?

Certainly, our instinct to survive is strong and I want my partner to survive.  But I also want him to enjoy quality of life.  Yummy and fluffy and sweet.

And when it comes time for the end, I’d rather it were peaceful.  At least in heart if it cannot be in body.

I don’t know of any other way to achieve that other than accepting that death is a natural process of life, and may just be a final opportunity for more holistic living.