Mom had a pretty cool wardrobe. She often received compliments about her shoes, her bright red coat (both gifts from my sister) and Mom often retold these stories of her encounters with people she didn't know, yet they made her day by noticing these small things.
This particular time, we were pretty concerned about the underlying cause of Mom's symptoms. Mom never much liked talking about her health so this compliment about her socks when her feet had absolutely nothing to do with the test at hand pleased Mom. And once again, the overall gist of the story is how NICE the medical staff were.
The story of Mom's cool socks was a moment of lightness during a time of worry. It sidetracked our thoughts and it simply brought a smile to our face and lit up the moment.
Mom had a more up to date wardrobe at the age of 85, than I ever have. These compliments Mom received probably brought up a conversation where I said, "No one would ever notice my socks. All my socks are black". A flip comment I would have completely forgotten if I hadn't received a surprise gift from Mom shortly thereafter. A package of brightly colored "cool socks".
I wear black socks for a reason. With feet the size of mine, I do not want any undue attention drawn towards them. While I loved Mom's gift, the back story and everything that came with those socks ... I knew I would never wear most of them. I kept the whole package of socks for a while, then picked out the one pair I could envision myself wearing. Black striped sparkly socks. I gave away the rest of the never been worn brightly colored socks.
I didn't wear them often. They were pretty flashy, after all. Besides, they made me think of Mom's sock story and I didn't want to wear them out.
Socks don't last long in my world. Even though I didn't wear these socks a lot, I knew they were wearing thin. So I pushed them to the back of my drawer and wore them even less.
Then came the day I should have done laundry but we didn't have any water. It brought my sock supply to an all time low. I needed a fresh clean pair of socks to go with my pj's after I showered last night (doesn't everyone want their socks to match their pajamas?). I've been thinking of Mom a lot and thought it was fitting that I should wear the socks she gave me on such an occasion.
I thought I could feel the floor beneath my feet. Sure enough, the socks were thread bare. But I wanted to wear them for as long as I could. And I did.
This is my sock at today's end. It has a mate that looks almost identical. I do believe this is the last time these socks will be able to be worn....
They are just a simple pair of socks. But I can still see the expression on Mom's face when she spoke of her sock story and gave me the gift of socks worthy of someone taking notice. Letting go of my sparkly socks is just another reason to think of Mom and bring her into the moment with me.
I've never been so sorry to let a holey pair of socks go. It's the little things that matter the most. It's the littlest of things that have the potential to make the biggest difference...
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