My
mother forgot, in her long labour and subsequent tiredness, to
perform a crucial rite, and so it fell to my nan, her mother; and
she, though resourceful in the circumstances – I lay in a bassinet,
checked on by nurses, in a special baby unit – only managed to
touch the tiniest spot of tender flesh with blessèd water, dropped
from a phial. The lightest of fingers brushed my forehead, and then
the sign, the sign of the cross , was made, in plain sight of
starched-uniformed nurses and white-coated doctors.
The
medical profession once believed, really believed (I don't know what
they believe now) they were also gods (and goddesses), and behaved as
such, so, maybe, this ritual, carried out on unconsecrated hospital
grounds was fitting; particularly since they had delivered me, safely
though prematurely, into the world.
My
mother, numbed with exhaustion and already thinking what new hell
have I entered into? whilst I, an angry, shocked red and screaming
bundle with a mass of dark hair, was whisked away. My hands curled
into fists, my mouth open in wail: take me back, right now! to that
pale, depleted woman, with people fussing round her.
An
exaggeration but then I don't remember and so I'm using my
imagination here.
And
so Nan came. With her holy water. It might have seemed imperative to
carry out this duty to her first-born grandchild. If it's true. But
would it matter if it wasn't? It's the story I've been told (okay,
okay some of it), but I have no reason to doubt their word, that of
my nan or those told to my mother and later passed on to me.
I
was never going to be baptised, officially, by a man (it would likely
have been a man then) in vestments, since my parents did not adhere
to that, nor any religiosity or superstition, but Nan might have
felt, due to my early, drawn-out birth and her catholic faith, it was
required, and therefore couldn't wait.
I
have wondered since, however, what good, if any, it's done me. Has it
kept me safe? Or in her haste, has it been the undoing of me?
The
sign of cross meaningless, just a placebo effect (blasphemy!
blasphemy!) because the water's the thing. In which to gain
immortality, or immunity, you need to be dipped into, head to toe, or
perhaps, if you're a baby, bathed in. Thereby, any places untouched
are vulnerable to injuries and ailments.
Just
as Achilles' mother, the sea-goddess Thetis, discovered, to her cost,
too, because with it came the loss of her godlike son, swift
Achilles. The legend goes that in his infancy, she'd plunged him in
the River Styx and neglected the heel, by which she held him by, and
it was there that later the fatal arrow of Paris found its mark, in
vengeance for his brother, Hector, which then led, in part, to the
dark swirling down to shroud his eyes. For the Fates and Apollo had a
hand too. As did Zeus, the King of Gods, who'd nodded his assent and
allowed his downfall to be planned.
Due
to learning this I've wondered: could this explain why, from the back
of the skull down, I suffer complaints or wounds? The holy water only
caressing the spot where later a lock of hair would rest, and so
migraines when they come grip the sides and back of the head, never
across the forehead.
And
growing up, I had all the common childhood illnesses, in quick
succession, as well as annual bouts of tonsillitis and wheezy coughs.
At night, too, I endured calves that burned and were taut with pain.
I've suffered sprains, a damaged right toe, a left ankle that gives
way and knees that crack. As well as eczema and a non-malignant lump.
I have a weak ear and my eyes, a while ago, lost their natural
ability to see distance, which is an irony I laugh at for my star
sign is that of the Archer. I should have been a goat.
But
I have been hit on that spot, the very spot where I assume the water
dropped, with a workman's tool: a hammer wielded by my then Herculean
three year old cousin. I was seven and all I got was a nasty bump. So
perhaps, that place is invulnerable after all.
Picture credit: Thetis dippping Achilles into the River Styx (design for antique cameo brooch).
All posts published this year were penned during the last.
