Well, I’ve got a stinking cold. Ugh. A few days ago I had a bit of a rough throat upon awakening and I hoped it wasn’t the start of something big. Hopes were dashed this morning when the aches and deep cough got worse. Double ugh.
While I was unpacking the dishwasher (still gotta do the chores) I suddenly thought of my dad. He’s been gone many years but I still remember some of his cold remedies. I’m sure they were the same ones his step-mom used on him and we’re talking the Great Depression times. No Nyquil or extra strength Tylenol for those people, no siree.
But they did have milk toast. Ha! You thought that was just a snarly term for wimp, didn’t you? Anyway, when one of us kids was laid low we could always count on milk toast. Dad would butter a piece of toast, lay it in a plate, add a little salt and pepper then cover it with hot milk. He brought it to us right away and sometimes it was cut into bits. You had to eat it before it got completely soggy but it tasted pretty good. Another bit of good was his solicitous attitude, kind of rare, but I also wondered if Mom thought milk toast was of no use so he had to act like it was. A mystery for the ages.
And then there was Vicks vapo rub. That got massaged into our chests and striped under our noses every time a stray sneeze or random cough was heard. Sometimes a glob of it was poked up each nostril causing us to wince. Orange juice and lots of it was another miracle cure and so was a cool washcloth across the forehead.
Maybe the truth of the matter is that love while you’re suffering avaiileth much. Sorry about the ancient language there. I’ve just always loved “availeth much” and use it whenever I can. It’s usually preceded by “The prayers of a good man . . .” and comes from the Bible. A modified version might read “the milk toast of Dad availeth much,” but I could be over thinking here.
But the next time you have a cold – and I promise not to give you mine – I hope there’s a milk toast, Vicks and an orange juice pusher who cares about you and will see you through it. Mine is gone, but the memory of Dad and his remedies may be enough. I have to report that I’ve survived every cold I’ve ever had.
Oops, I just coughed on the keyboard. Hope you don’t catch anything. But if you do at least you’ve got a few things to try now. Right?
Image: Mister GC Free Digital Photos