I learned something about my mom yesterday.
She likes to have her toenails painted.
Maybe I used to know, but I forgot. I don't even know how many years ago the Parkinson tremors got so bad she couldn't do her nails herself. I didn't notice.
She's such a trooper. She never complains. She's completely self-sufficient. But she can't paint her nails.
And she misses that.
It reminds me of when my grandma was in assisted living and a lady would come and paint fingernails and set hair for the old ladies once a week. At the time, I thought it was a funny thing to donate, but now I know that it was a beautiful offering of the best she had to give.
It reminds me of when Joni Erickson Tada was paralysed and in traction for months on end. She wrote about someone coming and washing her hair for her and how wonderful it felt.
It reminds me of when Edwin and I came to the States on furlough and some friends in Deleware took us on a limo ride to the ice cream parlor-- totally unnecessary, but fun and refreshing.
It can be so easy to give if we keep our eyes open. Fingernail polish, a hair washing, a batch of cookies. Whose day can you brighten today? Who can you refresh?
Thanks, Mom, for asking. That was the best part of our day together.
2 comments:
About once or twice a month, one my sisters or one of their daughters will give my mom a pedicure. Like your mom, it is not something she can do for herself. I can tell when she tells me about the pedicures that it is a treat for her and that she enjoys the time spent with the girls as much or more than the newly painted nails.
Thanks for sharing this sweet moment...truly precious.
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