There's something about pulling a sock over Sophie's slender foot that brings tears. It's a tug at the heart, at the eyes, at the arch in her foot that resists. I'll jerk it over some days, frustrated. Help me out, I'll say. Sometimes, goddamnit. I'll gently work it over on other days, a whimper in my throat.
It's difficult to defend the integrity of another person who can't do it for herself. It wears on the soul. The wearing, though, is like clothes. A garment to mask vulnerability. The wearing is from the outside, not her. It's from you. We shouldn't have to defend or even wear the clothes.
To be naked is to be true.
You would know this if you did this. Pulled socks over feet.
(But what does she actually do? She doesn't really learn, does she? I think I'd rather not be alive. I don't want to be a burden to my children. We aborted the baby because of the defect.)
All life while alive has value and the value is not something measured. There's no counterweight to balance.
I can whimper, shed tears, be impatient. I can also feel honored. All of it. Honor in the doing.
Do you get that?
You know I do friend. You know I do.
ReplyDeleteOh. Yes. You have hit the proverbial nail... again.
ReplyDeleteLove.
I get that. Even more because of how and what you share here. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYes!
ReplyDeleteYes!
ReplyDeleteYes. 💜
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and so true
ReplyDeleteThe pictures of you and your parents on the last post were wonderful, so creative and revealing. I loved them.
Yes, I get it. Honored (and patient, impatient, sad, cheerful, whatever I am) every morning to pull 4 socks on my 2 girls feet and 4 more for sleeping in every evening. 2 skinny, hyperextended, toes curled, sweaty - always sweaty - beautiful feet and 2 chubby twisted beautiful feet.
ReplyDeleteYes. Absolutely. And the grace of it all, it seems to me, falls somewhere in the fact that you did not ask for this nor were you asked to accept. Sophie came to you. She brought the love with her as all of our babies do and here you are with all of it making up the whole.
ReplyDeleteYes YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI do, Elizabeth. I do.
ReplyDeleteI do less than 1% of what you do in my job and I get this.
ReplyDeleteI don't even know where this post put me. Truth is surreal. Holding you all with love in this silence
ReplyDeleteI'm in the early years of this journey, but there are days that I feel like I have been doing this for eternity.
ReplyDeleteI get it. I hear you.
ReplyDeleteSo poignant. This reminds me of the days of tugging a sock over my mother's arthritic toes, but she at least was able to help, unlike your darling Sophie. And all the mixed feelings that go with this.
ReplyDeleteI'm remembering a mother I met many years ago who spent an hour each morning massaging her little boy's contracted feet so she could put his shoes on him for school.
ReplyDeleteYour post reminds me of a quote I read recently: "Do everything with excellence." Honor in the doing. Yes, my friend, you do.
ReplyDeleteJust got done with one of those mornings and am mad at everyone. Thank you for the perspective- it was much needed today.
ReplyDeleteTotally. And in my humble opinion, what you and I came here to learn in this incarnation.
ReplyDeleteAh the wonderful welling of bittersweet emotion in my throat and tears at my eyes... thank you for your words. Living with honor. So much. So, so much. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI do get this. I do know this. I do pull socks over feet; usually two or three pairs because of poor circulation. Sometimes over swollen feet that need to be kept raised for days in order for the fluid retention to recede. And then there are the shirt sleeves stretched and pulled over her bent, stiff arms. Yes, "it wears on the soul."
ReplyDeleteTwenty four years into our journey together . . . trying to imagine how many times I've pulled socks over feet, shirts over head & briefs over bottom. Some days my soul is weary beyond measure. Some days, like today, I am short with my son for biting at his hands to make my job even harder. And then there are the days that I feel "good" about myself for doing the best that I can. I totally "get it." I wish I didn't.
ReplyDeleteI've never had anyone make those kind of comments to me about Miss Katie. I imagine I would punch them in the face. I wouldn't of course but in my mind I would:)
ReplyDelete