Open Door Healing

I have chronic knee pain. I’ve learned to live with it and somedays are better than others. When I know I will be wallking a lot, I pop an Aleve or two and rub my knees with Bengay. As Hubby, the grandkids and I were heading out on an adventure yesterday, my grandaughter remarked, “What is that smell?” I didn’t even think about the Bengay. I replied that I had just brushed my teeth and Hubby said no, I think she’s talking about the menthal smell. Both grandkids were in the back making a fuss, asking if they could roll down their windows, my granddaughter holding her nose. I told her no, it was 90 degrees (F) outside and we had the a/c on, and that the smell would fade away in a bit of time. I have tried other non smelling products, but honestly, to me, they don’t seem to work as well. And that could by psychosomatic. My grandmother contracted polio at age 16 and had to wear special shoes with steel braces all the way up to knees and walked with crutches. That never stopped her. She was treasurer of our little town in Michigan, ran the license plate bureau, had three husbands and five children (at least that I know of). I grew up with the smell of wintergreen and bengay, as that is what my grandmother used at every morning and night to put on her knees. My grandmother was a huge part of my life, being the one stable thing in it, as my mother flitted about doing her thing. My grandmother taught me about independence, stubborness to a core, and not letting anything to get in my way. I am not quite as determined as she was, as I didn’t have the setbacks she did, but when I need that strength, I do call on her. There are times to when I am in my pain body and I think of her, and how did she do it? Live with all that pain all her life? The steel rods had to be freezing against her skin in the cold Michigan winters, she never wore pants, always dresses or skirts, and of course the obligatory apron. I wish had one of her aprons. When she died, I had just moved out to California with my husband, was starting a brand new job and at that time, work was the most important thing in my world, so flying back for her funeral and to help my mother with her things was out of the question, and the fact that I didn’t have the funds to do so either. It was never brought up or asked of me. I wish I had now, but it took me quite a long time to realize that work was not all it was cracked up to be, but that is another blog. It has been 43 years since she has passed and I still miss her so much. And I guess in a way, the Bengay is one of my connections with her. I think I will find another way to connect with her as I am kind of done with the whole pain thing. Blessings.

My grandma and mom, circa 1957/58?