After a long day at work, my Dad would come home and sit in his recliner. He'd put his feet up and then came my job. I'd untie his shoes and slide them off and then pull and pull and pull on his socks until they came off and revealed my Dad's hairy toes with the ridged toenails. I have memories of this occurring all the way through high school. It was tradition.
Another tradition was family massages. We were always giving each other massages - be it on the neck, back, hand or foot. And my mom was usually the recipient. Her muscles were large and tense. More like rocks than muscles. And I'd dig and dig and dig and pound and pound until she would cringe a thank you and pretend it felt better. But I still think I give good massages. I learned from my brother who learned from his many sports trainers and physical therapists. I love a good deep massage. And I love giving my family massages because it is an easy and effective way to show them that I love them. That all the work they do each day is rewarded.
Today I sat down on the floor. Then Evan and Zion jumped on, walked on, and stretched out my back. It was a great version of a massage. And it felt wonderful. Then when Daddy came home from work and sat on the recliner and put his feet up, Evan pulled of his shoes and then tugged and tugged until his socks were off too. And so the tradition continues.
2 comments:
Too cute, traditions are the best!
Aw, love the full-circle. :)
Post a Comment