For me?

Last week, I got a gift certificate from Jamie to go and get a Spa Pedicure.  She had just gotten one (also a gift given from a friend) and could not say enough how wonderful it was, and that she was super excited for me to experience it.  I made the appointment and got it yesterday.  It was beyond wonderful!  In addition to a normal pedicure, it came with an extra bonus of aromatherapy bath salts, sugar scrub, foot mask, and lotion.  There were four choices, but I knew before even smelling any of them that I was going to choose the Citrus, even before I knew it was the Energy choice (which I would have chosen if she didn't offer to allow me to smell them).  The second she opened the first packet and the scent hit my olfactory, I knew I was going to seriously enjoy the pedicure more than any other I'd had.

I called Jamie on my way home, thanking her and telling her I'd take a picture to show her the different design the woman had done on my toes.  Because my feet were still a bit lotioned up, and because my sandals are a flat surface, the second I stepped from my car, my feet slipped and I scuffed my left big toe.  Honestly, my pedicure was perfection for less than 15 minutes!  ARGH!  Oh well, I am still quite overjoyed with the whole experience.

And as you can see from the scuffed tips of each of my sandals, I may not be the most talented walker in the world anyway.  All flat surfaces challenge me daily.  The polish was doomed from the get-go.

I was surprised to hear that the woman pampering my toes was actually a pathologist for many years.  Just as I was interested to hear how she went from one career to another, she was interested to hear about Caden.  She knew right away that Caden's cancer is rare, including how even more rare Caden's case is from other UESL patients as the conversation progressed.  As we were talking, she asked what I do for me: "meditation, yoga, reading, napping, ie."  As I was naming a few from her list, I also added one of my own, one that you wouldn't really think would be a coping/relaxing mechanism: cleaning.

As the weeks have passed from the news that should have stopped the world, and Caden has slipped farther and farther into un-well, I have found more and more contentment in cleaning things around the house.  It's more of a surface clean, not deep clean with toothbrush put to grout or anything, but it makes me feel SO good as I make my home more organized and clean.  I don't think, I know it is because I feel in control of that one aspect of my life.  As I walk around my home, my haven, seeing things that are not in their proper placement, I find myself feeling lighter and lighter as I put things away.  The space was dirty, I cleaned it myself, now my home is right again, I feel happy.  I emptied that laundry basket.  I cleaned out that sink full of dishes.  I made those carpet lines.  I cleaned off those toothpaste spots on those mirrors.  I am in control of my home.

"And it makes you feel normal."  She understands.  Nothing is normal with our summer.  Nothing is normal knowing that my son is dying.  Nothing is normal seeing Caden so sick, hoping that it will actually give him a good quality of life in the extra time we are hoping for with this radiation.  Nothing is normal as we sit around the table for dinner, with Caden laying on his bed, plate close to his face.  Nothing is normal while I vacuum around Caden's bed and wheelchair in the front room, the first thing you see when you enter our home.  Nothing is normal as thoughts pop into my head about getting ready for obituaries, eulogies, coffins, headstones, and cemetery plots.  The only normal thing in my life is that I clean, organize, and decorate my home while planning and doing things with my kids.  That is my "job," the "career" I chose and aspired to as a child.  I am a wife and mother in control of her home.  And, as of this very second, that is enough.  Who knew that getting my feet pampered could also be good for my soul?