“There is someone watching your footsteps, Turn around, look at me “
There was one thing that my sister really, really took great pride in…and that was: The appearance of her feet. And so, she would regularly go for professional pedicures. Although she was a hard worker, this was one indulgence that she always seemed to allow for herself. Manicures? Well yes, she would occasionally have one; but to tell the truth, she could either take ‘em or leave ‘em.
One day, a friend claiming expertise in nail care came into her hospital room and offered to give her a manicure. This friend came in and proceeded to clip her nails; almost pinching the skin several times. Then, to make matters worse, she polished them in a particularly horrendous shade of dull red. Afterwards, my sister took one look at her hands, paused, and said to her friend in a trembling, weak voice, “You’re fired!” As I recall this, I can hardly keep from laughing.
However one would never,ever find her walking out of the door in opened toed shoes without an outrageously shocking hint of color peeking out. Even during the dead of winter, whenever she would take off her boots and thermal socks; you could pretty much count on seeing some dazzling, electric shade of lacquer adorning those toes. I always admired her for this. You see, she had beautiful feet. (Mine, on the other hand, look as if I have been working out in the cornfields all day long.)
“Look at someone (look at someone) Who really loves you, yeah, really loves you”
Prior to being admitted to the hospital, she had her famous toes professionally painted up in a most glorious shade of melon; a sort of luminous, pinkish orange color. As she lay in her hospital bed, with pressure cuffs wrapped around her swollen legs, I would often look at those toes and smile. We would often laugh and talk about how much her feet resembled “little piggies”.
The one thing that I will never forget: Throughout her whole ordeal, the color on those toes remained defiantly vibrant. As she trembled, convulsed, and ached, those fabulous toes continued to shine; a silent testimony as to the strength and humor of the one they were attached to.
On that last day of her life, just before I walked out of the room; and just moments before the crematorium personnel came in, covered her up from head to toe in a dark heavy plaid quilt and took her out on a gurney, I turned around and looked at those toes for one last time.
“Turn around, (turn around), look at me, (look at me,) Understand,understand,”
Still gloriously pink! Still fantabulously shiny!
They sure looked nice. Even in death, the woman was extraordinary!