Two Little Feet

Hello little feet in your shiny silver squeaky shoes!  You carry a precious cargo.  Where are you going?  What adventures will you take her to?  What troubles will you take her through?  Will you bring her to see me occasionally?  Something in her eyes makes my heart melt.

Other little feet have padded around my house.  Little ones who are only a little bigger now.  Little ones who are grown and padded away down life’s avenues.  They still come round to see me now and then.  Something in their eyes makes my heart melt.

There is a pair of feet still padding around in my house.  His I did not see when they were little.  His wander down the hall each evening to chat for a while before sleep overtakes us.  Something in his eyes makes my heart melt.

Down there close to the foot of my bed are two feet.  I knew them when they were little.  I know them very well.  They are usually tipped with a bright color to make me smile.  Not always red like Granny’s were.  I go for more variety.  Those feet which hurt at times and cause me to limp are the feet which have carried me through almost 50 years of adventures, troubles, treasured moments.

I like little feet and grown up feet.  Feet that bring my loved ones to see me and pad around the house filling it with memories for me.  Bringing them to me to melt my heart again and again with something in their eyes.

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Lessons Learned

My trip to Maui was multi-layered.  Time with the children.  Seeing the sights.  Relaxing in the warm sunshine.

The unexpected layer was discovering myself not weak and old.  I am not beyond pushing physical limits.  I hiked two five mile trails.  One was challenging.  The other was not for the faint of heart.

The ridge hike in the rain and the mud is the one of which I am most proud.  I was slow.  But, my son was absolutely patient and encouraging.  He guided my steps and we joked along the way.  What a kind person he is!  I did the hike without incident and without excess pain and fatigue during or afterward.

I didn’t and perhaps still don’t appreciate how hard I was rolled at Big Beach.  I had some bruises I didn’t realize I had gotten until the places turned black and blue.  It took days for all the sand to come out of my ears.  I still have sand inside the lining of my swimsuit.  I will have to work on getting it out when my package arrives in the mail. (I packed up extra clothes, shoes and my souvenirs in a box and am letting the mail lady bring it to me rather than having to check a bag at the airport.) I didn’t panic when tumbling under the wave.  I just relaxed and waited for my head to come up and my feet go down.  I didn’t feel any pain.

Again, I marveled at my endurance traveling home.  I awoke especially early in the morning.  I was unable to sleep at all on the plane during the overnight flight I took late that evening.  I was up about thirty six hours.  I wasn’t really exhausted feeling.  I was sleepy by the time I had my bath of course.  That is usual for me.  But, I did not feel horrible as I expected.

Those long hikes didn’t hurt my feet.  A good pair of shoes made the difference.  My feet often hurt in the morning just from an ordinary day at work where I sit most of the day.  I do not like wearing athletic shoes.  But, I did buy two new pairs of casual work shoes last week and had a pedicure to take better care of my poorly treated appendages.  They deserve the best care as reward for taking me along marvelous paths.

I discovered I am more physically durable than I believed.  I did more and suffered effects less than I ever imagined possible.  This body, even at this moment, has a spot or two of sharp pain and a spot or two aching just it has these many years. Nevertheless, I am pleasantly recalling my adventures in the middle of the wild blue Pacific.  My body didn’t ache and my mind didn’t race.  I longed only for certain amber eyes as the days blended into each other.

How does one live on island time here at home?  How does one live physically challenging adventures here at home?  How does one overcome the compulsion to push against the waves and get rolled rather than bobbing and floating, laughing and loving through the tumultuous days?  There is a time to dive into the waves and a time to paddle along the stream.  There is also a time to drift and notice the color of life.  The color of my life is aquamarine.  What color is yours?

 

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