Monday, March 9, 2009

memento mori


birthday polish, from Jamie



At my weekly counselling session last Thursday, Glenda said something about Dale that's been bothering me since then. We were talking about the guilt I have as a mother, for staying with an alcoholic. Because I couldn't leave, I changed the course of mine and Jamie's life forever - and in some ways, that was a good thing. In other ways, it was horrific. Anyway, she had said something like, "You shouldn't blame yourself so much because after all, when you met him he was still young and a nice guy. You didn't know he'd turn out to be not such a nice guy."

I'm sure she didn't realize how that would set off more guilt, because one of the reasons Dale chose to die was because he felt he deserved it. He quit drinking eight months before he died but kept beating himself up, I kept saying that I would keep his memory alive and I would celebrate the person that he was before he lost the battle with booze. I hate that other people only know the bad things.

Anyway, one of the nice things I truly miss about him is that he had a thing for giving me pedicures.

It wasn't a fetish as far as I know, but he thought I had beautiful feet. He loved the way they got so brown in the summer time, he loved the way they arched along the bottom, and loved painting my toes.

We'd be reading on the couch, with him sitting on one end and me laying down with my feet across his lap. Every now and then he'd notice that the polish was fading or coming off and fix it.

A few months before he actually died, we were on the couch in the same way but when his hand closed over the top of my foot he started crying. Through tears of my own I asked him what was wrong and he said who's going to take care of these? You have such pretty feet...

In the six and a half years since he died, I thought of this story every single time I painted my nails, with the exception of the time I asked Bill to do it last fall. We sat on the bed in the bedroom for over forty-five minutes because we kept laughing so hard that I couldn't stay still. Thank god the colour was light pink.

I kept that polish on for months, until it eventually faded away.

20 comments:

  1. There is still so much I can't/won't do that Chris and I always did together.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh, those memories that stay with us forever.

    Mike used to do my toenails too. The same, laying on the couch usually Mike watching a movie and me with my eyes closed.

    I remember one time, on a dare from my boss, I painted Mike's toes Seattle Sea Hawk Blue while she painted her boyfriends toes Washington Redskins Red.

    Another thing I miss is doing his manicures as we make road trips to cat shows. I always did his, one hand at a time as he was driving, lol. Cuticles, file, buff and massage with lotion. It was something I could do for him that he loved.

    I liked that you found a thing to share with us that was one of the things you miss about Dale and also that in another way, that you and Bill have your own thing going in a different way...I can imagine the rollicking laughter and smudged nails now...

    ReplyDelete
  3. I never paint my nails, let along let a guy do it! lol who sees them? they are always stuffed in sox and/or shoes. Am I missing out on something? LOL

    ReplyDelete
  4. What a wonderful memory.
    Guilt is a tough thing. I have a lot of it right now.

    ReplyDelete
  5. i'm glad you're cherishing the good memories. hope my significant other will do the same when i'm gone. the way my hands shake, there's no way she'd allow me to paint her nails. but she takes foot massages! gosh! the thought occurs to me now that i haven't pampered her in a long time. guilty!

    ReplyDelete
  6. We all have guilt of some kind. Yet it is nice you have good memories of him. We need to remember the good things.
    Roz

    ReplyDelete
  7. As someone who does pedicures for a living, that was a very sweet, sweet story. Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Oh man you can still make me cry, Kate! What a bittersweet post.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Kate, no one but you can ever know the whole story, some of the things that I have had said to me would also make other peoples hair stand on end. Let it slide. No matter what.
    I judge my performance as a parent by one thing and one thing only. How my kids feel about me as a mother, no one else gets to judge me in this matter. As far as my kids go, I think M said it best not so long ago when talking to one of his friends, he said,
    "My mum rocks. And rules!" Both of them are 17-18, and still M will always carry a heavy bag for me, even before I got ill. All of them do, the love they feel for you is proof just what a great mum you are.

    Remember yesterday, dream about tomorrow, but live for today.

    ReplyDelete
  10. aww that is such a sweet story.*hugs* its very rare that a man will even take the time to notice such things and even more so to attempt to paint them for you and everything.Sooo sweet:)Those are the special moments we never forget and I try and make as many as those as possible.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Sometimes you write of things in such a beautiful way that I just can't comment on...because I have no words to equal what you've written. This is one of those times.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Kate, such a touching post. Thanks for sharing that. Nearly made me cry, and I can hardly type now as I am trying to hold it back.

    You're a very special lady, in every way. You and Bill have a friend in me. Don't forget that in the coming future, if you get my meaning.

    Now, I gotta go for a walk away from this 'puter, so I don't cry. {Hugs}

    ReplyDelete
  13. It's amazing how little details in a relationship like that can mean so much. Him paying so much attention to your feet must have made you feel beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  14. that was so touching and sad kate! its little things like that, that mean so much, that wass an extrodinary moment

    ReplyDelete
  15. I think I would probably spend a long time talking to you and still not have a clue who you were.

    ReplyDelete
  16. I think that is a wonderful memory of Dale. Thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Right on. There are many lucky people in your life.

    ReplyDelete
  18. That was a really touching post. I must be getting old and sentimental!

    ReplyDelete
  19. Call me over sensitive and crazy but I teared up a little at this story. I don't paint my nails ever but I sure could use a pedicure :) My man likes to scrub my feet and rub lotion on them too.

    ReplyDelete
  20. Kate - that is so beautiful - I love how you and Bill made an attempt. Cherished memories for sure.

    But I have to say reading it made me think about Graham - I am sure if I asked him to do a pedicure for me he would be surprised to find out I had toes - -LMAO. Now my sweet Geoff (new hubby) he knows every centimeter of my body. Sighs.

    ReplyDelete