Hump day gratitude
Beautiful nails for a 98-year-old woman
This week I thought I’d talk about how much I appreciate my hands.
I recently shared this story with Karen Davis who produces Life in the Real World. Her beautiful words and photography are a treasure. You can find her here.
I reminisced with her about a time in my thirties when I contracted slapped cheek from my daughter Amy, a childhood disease also called Fifth disease or parvovirus. In rare adults, the symptoms can mimic rheumatoid arthritis.
In short order, I became very fatigued, and my joints became swollen and sore, especially my hands. As each day passed, I could do less and less. Buttoning my pants or squeezing a shampoo bottle was painful, and I had a three-year-old and a baby. I remember like it was yesterday, yearning to clean a sink without pain.
My GP didn’t know what to make of it and luckily sent me to a rheumatologist. That doctor instantly recognized my ailment and assured me that it would pass. He couldn’t promise precisely when, but I was elated to know it was temporary. It took about a year for all the symptoms to completely reside.
The experience left me forever grateful for the use of my hands and all the tasks they help me accomplish— writing, cooking, gardening, cleaning, and most importantly, expressing love through my touch.
On December 21, 2016, I took my mom to Red Nails in Auburn to get her nails done for what would turn out to be her last Christmas (photo above). I was waiting across the room, likely nodding off, when I heard my mother let out a loud sound. At first I thought something was wrong, but then I saw the look on her face. She was squealing with delight at her beautiful nails.
What do you get a 98-year-old woman for Christmas (who was a beautician in her day) and doesn’t need a thing in the world? A manicure!
Would love to hear if any of you have similar stories of difficult experiences that provided a lesson.
PS- For any of my readers in the Auburn area, my mom, being a beautician by trade, cared a great deal about her nails and hair right up to the end. Red Nails came not once, but twice to my mother’s bedside as she was readying to leave this world. The first time my mom was too ill for them to help her. They returned a second time and would not take any money for their efforts. Helen left this world with beautiful nails, which I’m sure she appreciated. I am grateful for their efforts and recommend them any time I have a chance.
What a beautiful story. My Mom was the same way about her hair and nails. During the last several months of her life she was bedridden and very confused. She had been living in an assisted living facility until I had to move her because her level of care was so high. The Hairdresser who worked at her assisted living facility agreed to go to my Mom’s new residence and do her hair and nails. At the end of my Mom’s life her hairdresser also refused to take money. There truly are angels living among us.
Wow yeah that’s a great nail job. What a sweet memory!