When ever I watch on television or print copies of advertisements of
ladies soaking in a tub of water with orchids floating on top of it in a
spa, I remember my grand mother’s flower power treatment.
The
year was 1975, my sister had her first baby, and my nephew wasn’t
sucking well. She was suffering from a breast abscess. Grand Ma sent me
around the neighborhood to scour for nine different kinds of flowers.
They had to be of different hues as well.
It wasn’t
easy looking for nine types of flowers and besides I thought she was old
fashion and I felt rather stupid going up to people’s house asking for
some of their flowers. We were also new to the neighbourhood.
“I need a handful of your mauve colored flowers.”
“Why do you want my flowers?”
“Because my sister has………. breast infection.”
As
a teenager, it was rather embarrassing explaining that part of the
anatomy. Fortunately, the neighbors were very kind and helpful, and some
even helped me pluck the flowers.
After I filled my
basketful of flowers of nine different hues I came home. Grand Ma put
them in the long bath tub and ran hot water into the tub. Then she and
my sister locked themselves in the bathroom. I stood outside the
bathroom listening to:
“OW!!!! HOT!!!HOT!!!”
“It’s got to be hot, otherwise it won’t work.”
After that hot flower treatment, my sister got better. But I was skeptical about Grand Ma’s treatment.
I said,” May be she would have gone better, with or without the flowers.”
Fast
forward some twenty five years, I was living with my three year old son
who became a scary cat after he was frightened by the loud engine sound
of my friend’s old Holden. It came to a stage that it was so bad that
he refused to leave the apartment. We were imprisoned in our own home
because the old Holden was parked downstairs of our apartment.
Come
another old lady to the rescue. My girl friend’s mother told me to get
nine types of flowers to bath him. I remember my late Grand Ma’s flower
power treatment. I went gathering flowers.
It didn’t
work for my son, he refused to get into the tub with flowers floating on
it. It took a long time, and a lot of coaxing, D even dragged Sam to no
avail and finally requesting my friend to remove the car. She was very
accommodating. At last we were freed of the clutches of fear.
In
Singapore and Bangkok, I often go and luxuriate in the health and
beauty spas. The aestheticism and spa technicians sometimes run a tub
filled with rose petals or orchid flowers. They tell me their sing song
English that the flowers have extracts that will relieve me of stress
and relief from insomnia I laughed, my Grand Ma knew about this long
ago.
Back in Auckland, I go for Chinese massages. The
Chinese doctor soaks my feet in tiny red flowers in a wooden tub before
he massages my feet and the rest of the body. Oh!!! I feel so pampered.