Once upon a time for Mondays with Mom, I wrote about Mom’s beautiful hands. To read that article, go here. Mom does have the most beautiful hands. Her feet are another story, however. Due to years of fashionable shoes, Mom’s feet are not beautiful.
Mom was a very sylish young woman. Shoes, of course, made the ensemble, so she would wear whatever was trending. For years, she would cramp her toes into tight little pointed shoes. Mom never threw much away, so as a child, I would go through her shoe closet and try on those pretty little heels. I often imagined trying to wear those painful devices all day, every day. I’ve always been about comfort in my shoe and clothing choices, so I never understood the rationale to suffer for beauty.
As far back as I can remember, Mom’s feet have had pigeon toes, bunions, hammer toes and oddly shaped, thick nails. I never saw her walk around in bare feet. Most of her shoes encapsulated her whole foot – there weren’t even many sandals. She didn’t like that I would run around barefoot all the time. Even now, I rarely wear shoes indoors except at church.
One of my new jobs is to care for her feet. My Dremel tool has been very useful for nail care. Years ago, I took Mom to a salon once or twice, but she never liked it; now it’s not possible. In just a minute or two of grinding, I can thin toenails enough to use clippers. (I have to be very careful so I don’t grind her skin!) Although I don’t paint her nails, I do keep them trimmed.
Mom’s always been kind of funny about her feet. I don’t know if she’s ticklish or not, but she doesn’t like to have her feet washed with a cloth. Some days she likes the warm water for soaking her feet, and other days I’m “scalding” her feet. The washcloth is too rough and the callouses on my hands scratch her delicate skin.
Each time I care for her feet, I think of all the caregivers I’ve known who have done this for years. My dear friends, Zelda and Joyce, cared for their husbands. I remember their stories of feet washing and the difficulties of caring for feet of someone who is bedridden. I’m grateful for Mom to be able to sit in her chair while her feet soak. Without water to soften her feet, I don’t know how I could get her nails trimmed.
I also think of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet. In John 13:5, Jesus says, “I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done for you.” He took upon Himself the role of the servant. The disciples were shocked at this act of humility because it was their proper work to have washed His feet.
When our children are babies, we often play with their chubby little feet. Even the feet of children are sweet. Somewhere in the teenaged years, feet turn smelly and calloused. Meanwhile, somewhere along the way, l think we lose the humility of kneeling and serving another person.
It’s the little things that mean a lot. I think she’s in a better mood after her feet are washed and dried and have lotion applied. Clean socks finish it off. I’m always so proud of both of us when it’s over!
