I am probably not the only wife who was born with cold feet.
After our marriage had settled into decades, there were times we went to bed only because we were tired and longed for sleep.
Yet our mutual fondness declared some expression of love was necessary to settling down for a “long winter’s nap” as they say.
One such night our toes touched and my toes which are always cold discovered the warmth to be found there. After a bit of giggling with him declaring how cold my feet were, and me relishing his “hot feet” we settled into the night’s rest with our toes still touching.
This toe fondling became a habit of sweetness and snuggling after a hard day’s work. When one of us was a little late to climb into bed the other would bemoan the lack of a foot to hold.
Eventually it evolved into the term “holding foot” which we always said with a bit of a grin. Since it bore all the tender landmarks of holding hands, we found it to be a vital part of our time together, especially when we were tired. It supplied to us the same gentle thrill as holding hands does. We enjoyed the idea that we could drift off to sleep while holding feet.
As the tradition continued, we began to realize that whatever didn’t hurt with aging issues could be held in fondness and comfort. Due to his severe peripheral neuropathy, what got held could vary from day to day. Sometimes hands, sometimes feet.
It can serve as a reminder to us all that whatever works is good in a relationship. Hold hands, hold feet, but don’t hold your breath too long as you get older.
Copyright 2017 by Hildra Tague. Obtain permission for use online or in print.