with canned milk, a ritual glass of brandy at bedtime, and almost no
fresh fruit or vegetables.

In her youth, my mother had been a concert pianist; now she had such
large arthritic knobs on all of her knuckles that her hands had
become claws. Though there was still that very same fine upright in
the cabin that I had learned to play as a child, she had long since
given up the piano. Her knees also had large arthritic knobs; this
proud woman with a straight back and long, flowing strides was bent
over, limping along with a cane. She was also 30 pounds overweight
and her blood pressure was a very dangerous 210 over 140, just
asking for a stroke.

Instead of a welcoming feast, the usual greeting offered to a loved
one who has not been seen for a few years, I immediately started her
on a juice fast. I gave her freshly prepared carrot juice (one quart
daily) mixed with wheat grass juice (three ounces daily) plus daily
colonics. She had no previous experience with these techniques but
she gamely accepted everything I threw her way because she knew I
was doing it because I loved her and wanted to see her in better
condition. She also received a daily full body massage with
particular attention to the hand and knees, stimulating the
circulation to the area and speeding the removal of wastes. Every
night her hands and knees were wrapped in warm castor oil compresses
held in place with old sheeting.

I did not use any vitamins or food supplements in her case. I did
give her flavorful herbal teas made of peppermint and chamomile
because she needed the comfort of a hot cupa; but these teas were in
no way medicinal except for her morale.