A short memoir of my grandmother's old country medicine...
A warm and memorable thought…revisited my being this afternoon…sun in all of its brightness.Memory of time when I…still a child…would become ill…along with the company of my two sisters.My grandmother of Austrian-Hungarian descent… would…without doubt…visit almost daily to our home…as she lived just down the street.
In our desire…to sometime hide in the security of house…masking our cold like symptoms…I remember most…my grandmothers voice…with the magic of her old country cures…suggest that we three…my sisters and myself…find a place to sit outside in the sunshine…let the warmth of its’ entirety cover our bodies…and make us well.
Of seriousness then…but of humor now…would be the strangest mandatory medicine…to sit together facing the sun and all stick our tongues out…so that the penetrating heat…of the great healer in the sky…would prescribe the cure…and cleanse our beings of the ailment we had encountered.
Of course…growing up in the old country school of tradition…there would the three of us sit…my older sister…younger sister…and myself…tongues extended…moment to moment giggling…one to another…listening…believing…learning to trust the elements.
And for a moment…it seemed to help…brought us all together…on the porch…in the brightness of the day.
Love it! It is a superb look into the traditions that hold many of us...the little things we have been taught, that maybe don't really help us, but when we believe they do...magic happens!
My husband always laughs at the little trick that my sister (Charlie) learned as a missionary in Peru...if you blow on a knot, it comes undone much quicker and easier. REALLY! IT WORKS! hee, hee... I know...like I said my husband just laughs and shakes his head...but when the knot comes out it is I who have the last laugh...hee, hee...
Thanks for sharing this special memory with us!
Cryssa
Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis
7/25/2008
I love this for so many reasons, John. I, too, have concocted notions and potions for the care of my young one - it seems a little "magic" draws us closer to the notion that healing/restoration comes from both within and from that broader, more spiritual place. In yoga, there is a move where you extend your tongue and "roar", letting all "that does not serve" leave the body. Also, the giggling surely can't hurt as our spirits become lighter and lift our burdens from mind/body. What joyous memories you have. What an incredibly loving Grandmother - one who preserved and nourished her and your link to nature and to the Universe.
This is very sweet and funny, the picture of you three with tongues left to dry out, lol, can I laugh a little? Well, the beauty of it is you now have great memories to add in your treasure box. Thank Grandma!
This brings back memories of Vick's salve and castor oil. These were the cure-alls. It also reminds me of Tom Sawyer's Aunt Polly and how she was quick to jump on the bandwagon for the latest medicinal marvel. Again, you painted the perfect portrait with nothing but words. When will you write more?
Hey, John...there more to these old-country-cures than are given credit to them, methinks. Precautions to when birds might be flying above you :o)
A great bit o' nostalgia...
Micke
Humor is the great healer. I loved this piece. I can remeber my mother rubbing a stinky home made concogtion all over our chest with a slightest sniffle. We couldn't stand being cooped up in teh house where the smell was strongest. Nice write...
Reviewed by Nancy Meeks
8/16/2007
John, I can totally picture you and your sisters sitting in the sun sticking out your tongues, laughing and giggling...all 3 of you :-)
I love this poem...
Nancy
Reviewed by LadyJtalks LadyJzTalkZone
8/13/2007
Nice memory and thank you for sharing it with us. Look forward to your work. Welcome to our dens. Lady J
Moments remembered and well-shared, John. Thank you. Love and peace,
Regis
Reviewed by Georg Mateos
8/9/2007
I had a old grandmother like that, and getting old my self I look at the skin of my hands and remember hers, the warmes, the tenderest, the only ones that never was raised in anger.
God bless them, yours and mine.
Georg
(Richard M. Feldman) Ever since I was a young boy, the only thing I wanted to be was a cowboy. I wanted to own and work on a real ranch, with cattle and horses. Especially horses.
While I never became a cowboy, considering everything I have done
TRUE STORY. Bella survived an abusive powerbroker father with organized crime ties, a drug-addicted mother and a physically/sexually abusive brother. Shocking & inspirational. When she couldn't cry, she tattooed a crying angel to cry for her.
Sepsis knocked her down and out. Faith, hope, and gave her the strength to get back on her feet. I am a Runner She fought the river of death They said she'd never run again
She proved them wrong...
