Wrapped in a warm waffle cotton robe, I sat in a comfortable armchair. I didn’t have to wait long before my massage therapist came to get me. A kind friend had given me a Fusion massage as a gift, no stranger to loss herself, she knew how therapeutic a massage can be. Thanks to her, I had ninety minutes of massage therapy ahead of me.
“Is there anything in particular that’s bothering you?” the masseuse asked.
I looked at her for a moment, wondering what to say, then I just said it: “My son died two months ago. Let your intuition tell you what I need.”
“I am sorry,” she said. “Take your robe off and lie down between the sheets. Take your time.”
The relaxing music, the dimmed lights, the soothing colors on the wall and the warm comfortable bed allowed me to feel safe and quiet.
Soon she started a general warm-up massage and by the time she progressed to specific parts of the body, I found myself traveling back in time. You see I don’t just love getting a massage, but I enjoy giving them too.
Even as babies, my children got used to being massaged. When they were toddlers (and now too) getting a massage was part of the bedtime rituals.
While my own back was being rubbed, I found myself in my bedroom of our London house, before we moved to New York. Still warm from his bath, Andrew was lying on my bed ready for his massage:
“Wait,” he said, jumping off the bed and running to my dressing table. After rummaging around my cosmetic bag, he came back with a comb.
“Here,” he said, looking pleased with himself as he handed me the comb. “Give me a massage with this.”
Florentina and Robert have always been happy with my hands, as was Andrew, but his was a playful nature and he liked to be inventive. For his massages he would come to me with feathers, pens, hair brushes, painting brushes, anything would do.
Gosh, it was fun. We laughed, we hugged, we kissed reluctant good nights.
The last time I saw you, you had a train to catch and I didn’t even get to hug you good bye, let alone give you a massage.
But before I had time to get really sad, my ninety minutes were over.
“Take your time getting up. When you are ready, I’ll be outside waiting for you.”
And she was. Before leaving she handed me a cup of hot lemony water: “It’s very cleansing,” she said.
Dear Lynn, what a wonderful gift, thank you. My body does feel lighter and my mind a bit clearer.
As for you Andrew, is there anyone there to give you a massage?