Body Image

When I think of my grandmother I think of cotton, flower print blouses and loafers. (Or Keds). They are her signature look.

Like Barbara Bush and pearls.

Audrey Hepburn and skinny pants.

Ernie and a striped shirt.

For years, her right foot has been a little lazy. My mom, who spent a lot of time in the hospital while trying to grow up, says she always knew when gram was coming down the hall because she could hear the slight drag in her step.

At 95, right foot has decided to go beyond lazy. It's actually gone a bit rogue. "Flopping around" as she says. Not necessarily turning under when she walks, but certainly not landing flat. Swinging at her ankle; carefree, reckless.

Now, I'm not one to stifle creativity. But this carefree foot could, in its hapless way, bring great harm to gram. Not that harm is right foot's intent. I'm sure right foot just wants to let loose a bit after 95 years of heel toe.

Who can blame right foot, really.

Gram's doctor would rather right foot get back in line though. So he ordered a brace, had her and right foot fitted, and then recommended some orthopedic shoes.

I don't know if this bothers right foot. Gram, on the other hand, is quite underwhelmed.

Last Sunday at our monthly gram breakfast she picked up my mother's worn, though small and somewhat stylish sneaker, looked at it adoringly and said "If only I could have gotten something cute and small, like this."

In order to fit right foot and the brace into a shoe, gram had to get a shoe that is almost two sizes larger than her beloved loafers. It is dull and black. It closes with velcro straps, like the simple shoes of a child. It is clunky at best.

Add the stiff, controlled gait of brace, and right foot has lost all essence of right footedness.

"Maybe I need to get slacks so people won't see," gram sighs.

I've seen my gram wear slacks once. Thick, woolen, plaid slacks so she could ride the toboggan with us down the narrow path behind her house.

Her cotton, flower print blouses are always paired with a matching skirt. Color matched, sometimes pattern.

And did I mention the loafers?

These are trademark items. Right foot supplied a trademark gait.

Will gram lose her gramness? How do you help someone maintain their id when what comprised the id is threatened?

All because right foot decided to finally let loose, do what right foot always wanted to do right along.

Break free of the loafers!

Right foot actually had a subversive strategy all along. Would whisper at night of the secret pleasure of green grass or cool vinyl against sole.

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I don't know how to end this. And it's far more melancholy that I want it to be. So I'm just going to stop writing.