I have had a bad crick in my neck for over a week. Thankfully the past two days have seen improvement, but it is still not totally gone. I have taken over the counter stuff, and it hasn't seemed to help. I have thought about the
Chiro, but I keep thinking since it is improving it will eventually work out by itself. A couple of nights ago David asked me if I had thought about using the heating pad (yes, some people say heat, some say ice...most of my research says heat) and it came to my mind that in a drawer in the extra bathroom there was a long, narrow heating pad that would be perfect for my neck. I remembered that it was one of the few things I kept of my mother's belongings (now I wish I had kept more, but once she went into the nursing home we had to clear her home fairly fast and I did not have anywhere to store a lot of things so most items were given away and dispersed her and there- nothing was of real value and there were no antiques or collectibles of any nature- the things she did treasure found homes among family members) and I was not even certain it would still work as it had been unused for the past twelve years. I came to my spot on the couch and plugged the pad in, wrapped
securely around my cricked neck. In a matter of about five minutes I began to feel the heat and soon thereafter I felt tears in my eyes. Tears that came from some place deep in my mind---tears brought on by the powerful sense of smell. Yes, even after twelve years I could "smell" Mother. I could smell the familiar scent of Avon and
Absorbine! How could something hold a smell for twelve years? But as certain as anything, that is what I was smelling. Once several years after Mother died I was in
Walmart happily shopping without any thought of her in my mind, when all of a sudden I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. I felt
embarrassed as I wondered what in the world would make me cry in the middle of the health and beauty department. I began to look around, thankful there was
no one else in sight, and out of the corner of my eye I caught the familiar gold, black and cream colored box that was my mother's face powder. Smell is powerful. I will admit stopping in
Walmart on occasion and picking up a box of that powder and taking a sniff- crazy huh?
