Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Something in the Way She.....
I've been crying a lot recently, probably due to my over 40's hormonal changes but mostly because my mother is gravely ill, yet still a feisty woman of stature and grace. Her honest eyes tell most of her story the moment you meet her. Crystal blue flames dart from her lovely face, just as they did when I was a small child and mesmerized by her beauty. She has been my caretaker, fan, supporter and rock for 41 and a half years, for which I will always be grateful but moreover, lucky to have had such a wonderful woman to call my mother.
We are a pair of silly hearts that love to cook, shop at flea markets, tag sales, make jewelry till all hours of the night and scour health magazines for the latest holistic cure all's of the day. She tries all my crazy tea remedies and laughed when I suggested she sample my newest find, Moon Cycle Tea which promotes hormonal harmony and balance. As she giggled heartily at my suggestion, I wondered if she only went along with my tea remedies because she was glad I had graduated up from my rock therapy days. I remember being in the back room of my office, lying flat on the floor, with a wide array of crystals, rocks and granite hunks in hand, while my open minded student aid Liza watched me try and figure out what chakra needed mending. I usually ended up throwing some sort of stone on my third eye for enlightenment since I could never locate the right energy channel to rev up my lagging system. The tea is much easier.
I got her hooked on a organic apple cider vinegar shots every morning, along with a healthy dose of cinnamon to help balance your sugar metabolism and fight everyday depression. I think my mom spent most of her days at Gingerbread Farm (my house) reading books by Dr Weil, hoping for a miracle cure. Her zest for life is contagious if not exuberant. Her will to live is strong and she has basically sold me on the fact that she will continue to fight till the bitter end. Sometimes her feisty behavior gets her in trouble both in and outside our family but she plods ahead, forging on with her fight. I admire that kind of will power. I've always looked for the easier way out of things so there is little suffering to go on. My mother has no fear, never has. I think her only regret in life is not having a fireplace to call her own, a minor bump in the road of life.