Home Remedies and Massages

Adding to the good memory bank. Because I have decided that the regular, day to day stories are even more meaningful but tend to be forgotten easy. Also, because I don’t have to have a bad memory in order to remember the good ones.

I have had a cold almost a week. Fever, cough, annoying! So grandma has been pressuring me to let her be my doctor. Basically, what that entails is allowing her to use home remedies on me which include the likes of vinegar, raw onion and gasoline. I shudder at the thought. I told her that she does not have a license as a chemist so she cannot perform her art on me. She thought I was funny. She didn’t drop it but didn’t seem to mind or even be surprised that I turned her down.

I have noticed that whenever grandma is agitated, anxious or even sometimes in a good mood she likes to come over and give me a massage. Naturally, I am completely OK with that. It calms her down so much and I get the benefit of spending some blissful moments with her.

So today, after another attempt at persuading me to allow her gasoline concoctions to be rubbed on my chest and my back, she came to give me a good old fashioned massage. As soon as I laid down on my tummy and she started rubbing my neck, I realized that her nails hadn’t been cut in a while. I tried to say something but it was too late. She was in the zone and being hard of hearing, I was going to have to either protest in a major way or just let it go. I chose the latter. Her hands are weak nowadays so I know she can’t actually hurt me.

As grandma is massaging my neck and back she tends to mindlessly chatter about whatever is on her mind. I love that! Her voice always gets pretty low, almost pillow-talk like. Something in her demeanor changes a little. She wouldn’t sound worried for the time being. She would simply start telling me stories of her past. Other times she would tell me the way she likes to cook a certain meal. Or her thoughts on Dancing with the Stars. You never know what you’re going to get. So I just listen! And savor the moments!

On this glorious day, after she had been sort of casually rubbing my back for a while she stops and asks:
- What’s wrong with your back? Why is it so red?
- Ha Ha! Really, grandma?
- No, it’s covered in these little lines too. They kind of look deep.
- I believe that’s from your fingernails, grandma! You’ve been grabbing fistfuls of skin from my back and just pulling (sometimes, that is her version of massage).
- Oh! I should probably cut my nails.

She then proceeds with the massage and her story. I smile and put my head back on the pillow. I love you, grandma!

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