So, speaking of health, this past month, Jer and I had an unwelcomed visitor in our home. Let me emphasize - "unwelcomed". Yep, he invaded our home and stayed waaaaayyyy too long. His name was "Pulmonary Edema" - i.e. "THE FLU!" and we were never so glad to see him leave. It was awful! You know - fatigue, fever, cough --- oh my --- the cough! I thought I was gonna cough up a lung!
Anyway, those long three weeks got me thinking about the good ol' days when Mom was our ever-loving, tender-caring nurse. Remember when mom tightly tucked you into bed, stuck a thermometer in your mouth, and placed a damp washcloth on your forehead? Those were the days! It didn't matter how many siblings you had, when you were sick, you were her only focus of attention. Today, I smile when I think about it! Oh yes - that special treatment! And her concoctions, rituals, and remedies (there were so many!) Wow! Sometimes I thought they were gonna kill me! But you know what? They worked! I'm sure your mom had her remedies too. Anyone willing to share?
Well, let me start first with the old mainstay - the hot toddy. If you haven't had one, you're missing out! The hot todddy was my dad's favorite medicinal remedy. He'd whip up a spiced drink of hot whiskey, water, honey, and lemon, and then carefully hand us that hot concoction (be careful if it's in a glass glass), and then make darn sure we drank every last drop. Let me tell you, if you dared stop and take a breath between sips, he'd be right there like a drill sargeant, instructing you to - "drink it up! Drink it all up!!" So I did. Thinking about it now, I honestly can't say if it really worked or not. But let me tell ya, I sure slept well!
And then there was my mom's favorite, the old "mustard plaster". Now you younger folks have probably never heard of this one, but I can tell you this, when mom mentioned "mustard plaster", us kids would run and hide! The smell, combined with the accompanying burn, made for an unpleasant experience. First she would concoct a smelly paste consisting of mustard powder, flour, and water - and then she'd spread it onto a left-over piece of fabric. Then that piece of fabric was placed directly onto our chest. Buuurrrrrnnnnn! No longer than 15 minutes or you might end up with a hole burnt right through ya! Oh my goodness! Sixty years later, the memory still haunts me! And can you believe that if you want to, you can still pick up one of these kits today at a local health store? No thank you!
One quick last one - then I'll quit, but remember the old "Vick's Vapor Rub" tent? All it took was one "whoop" coming from the upstairs and mom would be gathering her supplies and making the yell upstairs. "Diane - get down here!"
Immediately, I ran downstairs in my sloppy pajamas, wondering what ritual was next. At the bottom of the stairs, my mom greeted me, looking like the newest member of the Klu Klux Klan! Can you imagine? Tenting a white sheet over her head, she encouraged me to get in the tent with her. There we hovered over the stove, inhaling the vapors of Vicks Vapor Rub melting in a pot of hot water. Thinking about it now, I'm sure we looked and sounded like a couple of yogis. Breathe in. Breathe out. Soon our respiratory problems would disappear, and just like that, she was on to the next. "Bruce!" Funny how she could recognize us, even by our coughs!
So anyway, last month as I lie there, barely covered up, with my box of kleenex, and $150 worth of prescriptions, my mind started to think of mom, and how possibly those weird homemade remedies could be right.
Mom - maybe you were onto something. Your tender care and strange rituals could always reclaim our health. But then again - didn't moms always make everything better?
I sure miss those days!
