Lotus

Lotus
2/16/21

I watch as she gently grabs my foot. Both of my feet had been soaking for quite some time, and I’d been ready. I knew exactly what would happen.

Perhaps it’s because she herself has endured the pain or in spite of it, but Grandmother steadfastly and calmly performs her role in the ritual with deliberate and exact actions as Mother holds my hand, watching with what I believe is a tear at the corner of her eye that never quite releases itself.

She massages my foot with deep, almost mean motions. This is how she loosens up the muscles. This must be done because what happens next is almost unbearable without it.

I brace myself. I have seen the faces and heard the cries and screams of the women who have gone before me. I find a spot miles beyond the wall in front of me and deeper in my mind than I’ve ever traveled.

She bends my little toes down, pushing them with such force no one would believe this tiny old woman could possibly have had the strength. As she pushes harder and bends them further back, I feel the heat as it courses through my foot, up my calf, my thigh, belly, and chest, right to my head. I almost faint from the pain. It is unlike anything I ever could have imagined. Mother grips my hand tighter and tighter. It hurts, but I forget about the pain in my foot if only for second.

Once Grandmother hears the snap and feels the release of my broken toes as they bend under my foot, she grabs the ribbon. She wraps it around my foot and toes, pulling them toward each other. Back and forth, under and over again and again. With each pass, she pulls the ribbon tighter and the pain shoots through my body anew. She moves so gracefully as she creates the most beautiful and cruel pattern across the top of my foot. A figure 8. The physical manifestation of the unending journey I’ve only just begun.

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