Heartbreak Tonic

In the middle of the hawthorns

“Hawthorn can help heal a broken heart and is often recommended during times of grief.”*

Liz Neves, Gathering Ground

Back in early winter, when Lauder’s Slough down the road was being bulldozed, and our hearts felt so heavy, my dear friend Debra brought us a small bottle with a label on it – “Hawthorn Tincture”.

Both Debra’s thoughtful gesture and her Heartbreak Tonic (as Vera and I came to call it) did help soothe my sore heart over time. Anticipating more pushed bush, Vera and I were inspired to make our own. We used dried hawthorn berries we had gathered on a memorable fall day. The recipe is simple:

·      1 cup fresh hawthorn berries or 3/4 cup dried berries

·      2 cups  40-50% alcohol

Place hawthorn berries in a zip lock bag and roll over them with a rolling pin gently. You want to avoid crushing the seeds. Mix one part hawthorn berries with two parts vodka or brandy (needs to be 40% alcohol). Put mixture in a glass jar in a dark spot for a few weeks to let it work its magic. Pour the mixture through the cheesecloth and dispose of the berries. Place the tincture in a dark jar. Shelf life: 2 years

Photo by Vera Saltzman

While we picked through and cleaned the berries, I told Vera the story of how my watercolour “In the Hawthorns” came to be. It goes like this:

If you have visited Pheasant Creek Coulee with me, I have likely shown you the grove of hawthorns I love to hang out in. Perhaps we crawled together on our hands and knees right into the earthen patch at the center? On an autumn day, this is exactly what 9 year old Kami and I did, so her mom could enjoy some quiet time in the coulee. The hawthorns were laden with berries.

Before entering the grove, I put my finger to my lips and whispered, “Sssshhhhh”.

“If we are absolutely quiet, for as long as possible, then the birds, the squirrels and the chipmunks will eventually return to their feast of berries. If we can stay quiet for half an hour, the fairies might also come.” 

Kami was not a quiet child. Nonetheless, she wore silence like a cloak, staying absolutely still. Listening. Tuned in. Focused. After many minutes the birds began to return and her eyes caught mine with a twinkle and she touched her fingers to her lips, admonishing me to stay quiet. Moments later, her face lit up in a smile, she whispered, “I heard the fairies. Sssssh, if you stay quiet, you can hear them, too.”

I listened, and she was absolutely right. I could.  

Although Kami does not have black hair like the person in the watercolour, the painting is about our enchanted time together in the hawthorns when for a while, all time stopped and the hawthorn grove was alive with the movements and sounds of birds, small beasts and fairies.

I treasure the memory of that time with Kami. Long before I learned about the healing properties of hawthorn, I sought this grove out as a kind of sanctuary. Sitting on the dark earth amidst the hawthorns for a spell always settles me.

So often, when our hearts are hurting because a place we love has been wounded, we find solace in the wild places. It’s like a circle.

I like when Robin Wall Kimmerer writes, “We can’t have an awareness of the beauty of the world without also a tremendous awareness of the wounds.” She goes on to say that we grieve because we love, and our grief, however difficult, makes our love even stronger. I have found this to be true.

Photo by Vera Saltzman

*As with all medicines, caution is advised. In particular, if you are using cardioactive pharmaceuticals like digoxin, consult with your health practitioner.

Here is a full version of the recipe above.

So many thanks for continuing to read our thoughts and reflections. We appreciate hearing from each of you.