Memories of Nonna

My little Sicilian grandmother died in 1998 at the age of 95, devastating our family. Though she was tiny, she was mighty, and left me with many great memories.
Last week I was sick with one of the worst colds I've ever had. I missed 3 days of work and could barely get out of bed on Wednesday. Nighttime was especially bad, trying to use any comfort measure I could to keep my symptoms at bay. A vapor bath, hot tea, Zicam, Dayquil, Nyquil, breathing strips, and of course, Vicks Vapor Rub.
When I was a kid and I was sick, my grandmother would always rub Vicks on my chest then pin a piece of flannel to my pajamas so the Vicks wouldn't absorb or smear. I forever associate Vicks not just with mentholating action and relief, but with being cared for and loved.
Every time I use Vicks or even smell it, I think of my little Nonna, Santa, (her name just happens to mean "saint" in Italian) and I smile. It took a long time for me to smile and not get choked up when I think of her but it's true, time heals all wounds.



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