Clipping Nails

Mom was in a skilled care facility, and part of her care plan was a checkup from a physician’s assistant. Martha insisted we call her by her first name rather than referring to her as a doctor. She was kind, personable, and extremely patient dealing with Mom’s early-stage dementia. Since I lived two hours away, I greatly appreciated her regular reports on Mom’s condition.

Occasionally when in town to visit Mom, I had the opportunity to chat with Martha in person. It was a delight. She was bright, cheerful, and seemed to thoroughly enjoy her work. To see someone who did their job with such pleasure was refreshing. Mom loved her visits.

In Phoenix, on a Wednesday afternoon, I stopped by Olive Grove to say hello. “Come in!” Mom called when I knocked. “Look, I have company.”

Martha was on her knees on the floor next to Mom, clipping her toenails for her. She looked up and said she was almost finished. I assured her it was fine and to take her time. She smiled and said, “I love chatting with your mother. She is such a joy to be around.” I agreed.

I watched as she finished. She clipped nails with such tenderness and care. It reminded me of what it must have been like to have Jesus wash your feet. The way she so lovingly held Mom’s foot and the careful way she collected the clippings and deposited them in the nearby waste can was sweet to watch. “Wow! That’s quite the service,” I said with a laugh. “I didn’t know Medicare paid doctors to do pedicures.”

She responded, “They don’t. It’s just something I like to do for my patients. It’s really hard for older folks to trim their own toenails, so I offer to do it for them. It’s a simple gift I can give them.”

I pondered that. “I have to confess that watching you serving my mother like this reminds me a bit of when Jesus washed the feet of his disciples.”

“Oh, I hope so,” was her quick response. “I enjoy my time with your mother. We share faith in Jesus. Folks like your mother have such amazing stories of God’s grace through the years. Stories I need to hear. It’s a great encouragement to me to listen to your mother tell about God’s presence as she struggled with being a young widow with four kids and then being widowed a second time. Her faithfulness through the years is remarkable.”

Mom smiled. “I can’t tell which is more fun, getting my nails clipped or having someone listen to my old stories. I’m glad I don’t have to choose. If I had to choose, I think I’d probably pick getting my toenails clipped. It feels so good when she’s done. It drives me crazy when they get long.” Martha smiled.

Mom’s insurance changed, and they no longer contracted with the company that employed Martha. It was sad to say goodbye and engage a new doctor.

A few weeks later I stopped by and found Martha holding nail clippers and down on her knees by Mom’s chair. “Look who came by to visit on her day off!” Mom chirped. “Isn’t it great that she just happened to bring her nail clippers along?”

It was.