What Funny Skills We Inherit
I was around seven- or eight-years old. The Colorado winter was in full force, and the snow was about up to my ankles, or higher. My dad and mom took me hiking with them around Lily Lake, not far from our home. Some man, whose name I do not remember, was in the lead.
At some point, I couldn’t walk anymore. Not because I was tired. No, I loved the snow, building forts and playing chase. My issue was footgear; mine was too thin for the trek, and my feet were freezing. So Dad swept off a rock and had me sit. He pulled off my boots and stuck one foot under each of his armpits. Nice and cozy. His impromptu warming method did the job.
Fast forward 25 years to the time I visited Crested Butte, Colorado, with my family. We’d brought our German exchange student, Sonja, and her Norwegian friend Sofia with us. Of course, these girls were hotshot skiers and made us all look bad on the slopes, but that’s not the point of this blog.
We returned to our hotel after a long day of skiing, and Sonja’s feet ached. I think she barely escaped frostbite. So guess what I did? Yep, I had her sit on the floor and snuggle her bare feet under my armpits (I had on a sweater). She said, “I have never seen this before. But it’s working.” I wish I had a picture of that moment.
More recently, I was visiting my Ashiatsu therapist. Jay Janolo is amazingly gifted and her knowledge of the human body is outstanding (she’s also a physical trainer and does some sports therapy). Anyway, at the end of every Ashiatsu session, she does this soothing thing with my scalp. She grips sections of my hair at a time and gently tugs. It feels so good.
So one day I asked, “Is there a name for this technique? Where did you learn it?”
She said, “I learned it from my dad.”
Not the answer I was expecting, but now I figured her dad must’ve worked in the same field in the Philippines. Like father, like daughter. “Was he a massage therapist, too?”
“No. He built houses.” Her unexpected answer cracked me up. She said, “When I was little, I used to run around outside and play so hard that I would come home with a headache. So Dad had me sit on the floor between his feet, and he would pull my hair to release the tension and pain.”
Who woulda thunk! (Can these double as caring Dad stories, though they are a bit late for Father’s Day?)
Oh, the “skills” we pass on to our children. I want to know yours.
What unusual yet helpful “skill” did your mom or dad pass on to you? Leave your answer in the comment section below. Who knows if what you share might be just what another reader needs. Or just entertain us and make us laugh!
Sowing Seeds of Bravery to Share Your Story
