For those of you who process visually and auditorially, here’s another option for consuming this blog. Slightly different script. And the lighting keeps shifting as the sun went in and out, but here it goes. The story of how my family’s 2022 holiday celebration went dreadfully sideways and how my grandmother’s wisdom showed up in unanticipated ways.
Picture this…holiday music wafting from room to room. Comfy guests lounging in their pjs. Evidence of the tasty brunch now cleared away. Another round of mimosas poured into champagne flutes. Fresh coffee aroma punctuates the air. A bevy of gifts lie under the tree. Sumptuous baked goods and sweet treats. Luscious bottles of wines. Gift cards to favorite restaurants. Gag shirts and socks eliciting laughter. Fun is had by all. Everyone except you. You’re down for the count. Another co-vid casualty. 2023 began the same way 2022 ended for me in bed, with the shakes, shivers, sweats, aches and eventual irritability for losing nearly 3 weeks, and at other times too exhausted to care.
A bevy of gifts under the tree.
In an alternate universe, here’s what was supposed to have happened. A quick holiday getaway to British Columbia in celebration of the season. More importantly, we were psyched to commemorate major life milestones. The flights, the hotels, the carefully curated afternoon tea, and the swanky dinner reservations were solidly in our planners. Sounds great right? Ah, sweet anticipation devolved into disappointment as wicked ice storms blew throughout the Pacific Northwest, and dual pink lines on pcr testers spawned systematic plan cancellations. Turns out our flights were obliterated anyway due to hazardous weather conditions. We would have been stuck at an airport mid-stream between home and our destination as some of us succumbed to illness had we persevered. Our festivities shattered much quicker than the initial arranging.
During that down time, I had far too many hours to sleep or wile away in misery. Meditation, reflection, and cajoling myself into gratitude recitations helped to pass minutes, not much more. Despite feeling like the ringer rung me out, and that return to optimal health was a lifetime away, I conjured things I was grateful for. Although my son brought the pandemic virus home and was down for the count within a day after arriving, I was extremely grateful that we were able to take care of him until he got back on his feet. I was grateful that my daughter and her fiance opted to join us for the holidays this year, and that they were beyond gracious as our plans imploded. I was grateful that most of us made it through Christmas enjoying the meals and gifts, and that moods were mostly positive. That helped me deflect as my emotional and physical state began to wither. And, I am so truly grateful that at least one of us was healthy enough at all times to tend to those flattened.
About 4 days into the virus, my feeble mind drifted back to my childhood and memories of my grandmother. Through my childhood, whenever I was sick, my grandmother sent over her “magical” chicken soup. Better cure than any pharmaceutical. At the first sign of my son’s symptoms, while scouring for covid tests at the local grocery, I grabbed the soup’s healing ingredients recalling her recipe. Upon my return, I retrieved the stockpot, tossed in the chicken, veggies, herbs, and water awaiting the rapid boil. My son would need the nourishing warmth to aid in recovery when his appetite was meager. If I went down, I knew my body would crave it. And a batch would be there for anyone else. The liquid was frozen overnight into ice cube trays, then broken apart into containers for easy thawing and dosing in just the right amounts.
What She Used to Say…
My wise grandmother, in her younger days. Circa 1920s. She radiated good health.
Speaking of my grandmother, I’ll never forget her trademark adages. She said them so often that as I child, they were just words. I barely paid attention. In some cases, the context was lost on me. Now in December 2022, amidst a fevery haze and thoughts of how our holiday went sideways, one of her more profound mottos reverberated. Every birthday and holiday gift, every instance of surreptitiously slipping piggy bank money between my fingers, was accompanied by direct eye contact, a warm smile, and the words “use it in good health.” My busy mind was and still is always on to the next thing, a quick “thanks” and I was off. I never once stopped to consider that to her, those words were more important than what she placed in my hands. Or what she wanted me to know.
In my viral discomfort, thinking back to the gift exchange a few days prior, cataloguing those things that would sit unopened, unused for the next few weeks as isolation dragged on, I heard her voice. For the first time ever, I processed what she meant, and said so often…”use it in good health.” What good are any of the yummy treats, the bottles of wine, restaurant gift cards, the silly socks, irreverent t-shirt, or any of it if you don’t have physical or emotional wherewithal to enjoy them? I surely didn’t.
A Modest Lifestyle Rich in Wisdom
My grandmother lived a modest life. She bought and kept only what she needed and crafted with her two hands. She also held onto the objects that she cherished as part of her heritage, culture, and values. Transitioning from her two-bedroom apartment to a bedroom in a relative’s house was logistically easy. There wasn’t much to haul. It wasn’t about what she owned, it was a matter of using what she had, the few things that made life richer. Using them in good health was a beacon that shone through her 90+ years.
Subliminally it Showed Up When the Gift Card Didn’t
Something subconsciously bizarre transpired. Upon checking why my daughter’s fiance’s gift card didn’t arrive in his inbox when it should have, I noticed something I hadn’t recalled doing. On his gift message, I had typed, “enjoy the dinner and use this card in good health.” Wow. Subliminal ode to my grandmother passing along her well wishes to a new generation, a new family member.
All the Cool Toys and Gadgets Won't Mean a Thing
We can own all the cool toys and gadgets that our hearts desire, wallets afford, yet without the ability to enjoy them, what good are they? Choose with discernment what to obtain and keep. Then use whatever you have in good health. May this new year be filled with optimal health, joy, and all the things that bring you measurable pleasure.
My Imprint Someday
And now I’m curious if someday my legacy words, any bits of wisdom, will resonate enough with my children to remember me with a giggle, a sigh, or a nod of thanks. As long as they have their health, I suppose that’s good enough for me.
