Post by Waynonaha » Tue Apr 22, 2003 10:04 pm
From down the hall I can hear her feet slapping on the cold floor as she passes my room. Slap, Slap they go, until I can only hear the water being pumped into the tea pot. Click bang Click bang the pump handle goes. Rattle clank the stove lids make a clinking sound as she pokes wood into the still glowing embers of last nights cooking fire. All the while her feet slap on the kitchen floor, back and forth in her morning chores.
Soon the whistle of the steam flying through the little red roosters head on the tea kettle is heard.
I hear a tap, tap, tap, it is the foot steps of my Grandmother her feet are so tiny only a size four. I have hardly ever seem my Grandmothers feet, she keep them laced up proper in the black high top shoes.
I pull my blanket tight around me not wanting to leave the peace of my dream time to enter the cold kitchen. Finally I stick one foot out from under the covers and touch the icy floor. Burr!! the chill reaches up my leg and into my stomach, I sit up to find my socks.
Putting my feet into the baggy wool stockings I look for the first time at my feet. I remember these feet I have seen them many times before. They are on my mother and my aunties my sister and my cousins. We all have these same feet, high arches, delicate and female. I will learn later on that they are also some what provocative.
These feet are also wide at the toes yet delicate, wonderful strong feet. Feet made for dancing and walking unbound with conventional shoes. My mothers feet are calloused she sometimes scrubs them with sand stone to remove the rough spots. Taking care to rub the cooking grease over the cracked areas.
I would rather run bare foot in the sand this does a much better job of removing all the rough edges. Then there is the pure joy of walking in the spring mud and letting it ooze up between your toes.
The warm new tilled earth that lets your feet sink down in it, when the planting is done. So many things to enjoy with these feet, so many places to walk and many lands to visit.
I wonder at times where my mother has walked with her delicate feet even as she is older her feet are always well cared for.
She sometimes tells my I will never get a man with feet all rough and scratchy. I find this out when I am trying to put on nylons and create many runs in them. Finally I just let my tanned skin do for the time being. No nylons will come close to the color the sun brings to our skin.
In time my feet will broaden and become close to the Mother Earth. When I walk it is as though my feet want to blend and melt into the skin of the Earth Mother.
During my years I have carried six babies with these feet both before and after birth. I have walked miles in my work as a nurse and mother. I have stood with my feet, shaking in my boots when confronted with life and all the fears we have to face daily. I have seen death many times, walked a young mother to her dyeing daughters bed when her own feet failed to take her there.
My feet have taken me places I was afraid to go and managed to walk me through the hard parts. These feet are getting old and sometimes swell and cause a lot of pain. Even when they are tired, they get me up each morning and walk me through yet another day.
Maybe I will take root and become a tree or a plant. Maybe I will just stand as a stone and let life flow around me.
Slap slap my feet go as I walk down into the cold kitchen and turn on a faucet to fill my tea kettle. Hiss poof, the gas goes as it catches fire, and heats the water. Tinkle clink goes the china cup as I place my morning tea in it. Who is waiting to take my place with her delicate new feet just learning to walk and to feel? I thank you mother for these strong feet you have gifted me.
I see the same feet on my new Grand Daughter, I know she will have the strength to walk the red road of life.
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