Today’s prompt: WAY
My mom loved her acrylic nails. I think it was about 15 years ago that she started getting them done. After that, she was fastidious about getting them done regularly. As my dad tells the story, she would cut his hair, then he would pay her $15 (or whatever) and she would use that to get her nails done. Sounds like an arrangement that worked well for them.
Mom was not a flashy person at all, but having her nails in great shape was a way, I think, to feel just a little more polished (pun intended!). As a side note, she had a pet peeve about people who always looked completely put together (imagine her voice here) “except they had a quarter inch of slip showing out of a piece of hem” or “their hair was never quite in place” or …. some little thing that kept the image from being perfect (and I wonder where I get my pickiness about words from …. maybe it’s an offshoot of that).
The nails were a problematic barrier during her two months in the hospital. It was hard to get a good oxygen reading. I saw them use a pulse oximeter on her ear one time when they were having trouble getting a reading (that didn’t work out that great either…). Yet they stayed. I guess none of us could figure out how to go through the rigmarole of getting them off there in the hospital. I think we also all thought that her recovery was imminent and she would be able to take care of it.
For her funeral …
*** [end of five minutes]
… I tried to replicate exactly the color she had had over those months. Almost everyone who visited her in the hospital had complimented her on her nails. My dad kept saying, “they didn’t expect someone that old to have such great nails.”
Her hands were a mess after she passed away. I remember talking to Kaleb at the funeral home about them …. and I think the point was they were too bruised from all the procedures to look right, so they were concealed.
I vowed to always keep my nails done as long as I could afford it in tribute to her (and as a bit of self care).
The time has come, until we get this house sold and some other things fall into place, to hold off.
BUT there is another way. As my income situation keeps coming together, I am also picking up transcription work during spare moments. It may not pay for a professional manicure, but it’ll pay for a bottle of polish.
I’m pretty determined (so was my mom, about many things), so I’ve found a way (for now) to honor her my doing my nails without further breaking the bank. I think I know what I’ll be thinking about as they dry.
Welcome to this week’s Five Minute Friday. Our instructions, via creator Kate Motaung: “Write for five minutes on the word of the week. This is meant to be a free write, which means: no editing, no over-thinking, no worrying about perfect grammar or punctuation.” (But I can’t resist spell checking, as you can imagine.)
Wife of one, Mom of two, Friend of many. My pronouns are she/her/hers.