Socks are an important part of my attire, especially since the weather has begun to turn cold. Mom loves her socks, too. She likes her socks to match her pants, but it’s often easier to match black socks to her favorite pair of black shoes. It’s one of those everyday items we take for granted. Until we can’t find the mate to our favorite pair.
Mom has been a collector of socks for many years now. Her sock drawer is full of fuchsias, blues, and several dozen pair of white socks. Somehow the blacks faded out and were lost, so a few years ago my sister bought 4 or 5 pair of nice solid black and gave them to her for Christmas. Mom is so funny. She still prefers her colored socks, in spite of my encouragement to have her put on the black ones with her black pants.
In the sometimes battle to get Mom dressed and warm, I think often of her socks as a metaphor to our new lives together. It makes me think of the poem “Ode to My Socks” by Pablo Neruda. It’s a lovely poem and if you don’t know it, here is a link. He talks of a pair of hand knitted “socks soft as rabbits” and how his “feet were honored this way by these heavenly socks.”
Mom’s skin has become translucent and frail and soft as she has aged. It is delicate and easily bruised or scratched. Once the heat is turned on at the house, it becomes chapped and dry. It’s hard to keep enough lotion on her to avoid the scales and itchy skin.
In the last year, Dad has started taking her to the podiatrist to get her toenails clipped. I am so grateful for Dr. Rose and her team. With her hammer toes and years of high heeled abuse, Mom’s feet are misshapen and her nails are thick. It has been such a blessing to have someone who really knows what they are doing to care for her feet.
I think of all these things when I put the socks on Mom’s precious feet. I think of the miles these feet ran while chasing four toddlers. I think of the hours she stood on these feet preparing food for her family and friends. I think of all the countries and states where she lived with Dad in the military.
As a general rule, I do not think of feet as beautiful. God does. In the Old Testament book of Isaiah 52, verse 7, it says, “How beautiful on the mountain are the feet of them who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation!” (NIV). In Paul’s letter to the Romans, he reiterates it again, “As it is written, How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” (NIV, Rom. 10:15 B.) That’s Mom. She brought good news and glad tidings to so many. She certainly proclaimed peace, especially to her children! And she proclaimed salvation to her family and friends, in Sunday School and church, and to her community wherever she was.
When Julia, my youngest, was a little girl, Mom and Dad cared for her each afternoon after preschool. I was going to school for my Master’s degree and I also had various part time jobs. Sometimes after lunch, Dad would pour hot water into two basins and let Mom and Julia soak their feet. There are some cute pictures from that season of Dad’s two “girls” snuggled in blankets with lunch in trays on their laps, their toes in the water and big smiles on their faces. Dad has always been a model of Jesus’ love – this is one of my favorite ways. His unselfish servant’s heart would pour the water and Epsom salt and bring the towels when they were finished.
Much has been said about the story of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet in the book of John 13:1-17. Every time I wrap Mom’s feet in “heavenly socks,” I think of our Savior down on His knees. I think of so many caregivers who have lived their example before me. I know women and men who daily cared for loved one’s needs on their knees. Hour after hour, day after day, maybe year after year. “What is good is doubly good” (Naruda) when it is done with a servant’s heart.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Donna James is the choir director at First United Methodist Church in Cornelia, GA. She’s a wife and mother of three children and, in her “spare” time, teaches voice and piano lessons. She’s a caregiver to her mother, Ruth, and eagerly seeks and shares the lessons her mother’s journey through Alzheimer’s is teaching her.
If you’re a caregiver and have a story to share or know of resources that might help other caregivers, please contact her at [email protected].
