A moment of reflection in cold and flu season

That opaque blue, which sometimes appears in fancy jewellery. The blue that is both light and dark and see-through. Comforting and beautiful because it is also the color of the bottle of Vicks Vapo-Rub, which I pulled from the medicine cabinet this morning to unclog my stuffed nose (a direct result, I think, of a pushy salesperson who came at me out of nowhere in the mall and started lathering "Dead Sea Salt" all over my hands despite my obvious horror and disinterest). 

Everything about that bottle - the smell, the contents, brought about a warm feeling. I know it helps physically, but the mental aspect is always just as powerful. Growing up, whenever I used to cough, even if it was in the middle of the night, my mom would come into my room, in her white flannel nightie with the blue flowers on it and "rub me in". We'd tiptoe downstairs and I'd lay on the couch, the only light coming from the oven in the kitchen. She'd rub in my throat and chest (it never felt the same when anyone else did it - a little rough, but, a strong believer in tough love, she knew that was the only way to "get in there and break up the cold"). Sometimes we'd sit in silence, sometimes we'd whisper,  and I always felt so safe and loved in those moments. Then, she'd pin an old cloth to the inside of my pyjamas so they wouldn't get all greasy, and send me off to bed again, with a clear throat and a soothed soul. 

It's things like this that make me miss her the most, the simple memories, the nights when it was just the two of us. These memories give me hope, and assure me that whenever I am sad or lonely, I will always have those nights curled up on the couch, with a rag pinned to my pyjamas, whispering with my mommy.