Wisdom in those Ugly Toes

We were in Nashville for four days. I had spent countless hours cruising websites and looking at travel books to make sure that we saw all the sites that, in my knowledge of him, Jim would love. I knew that my quest was worthwhile when each moment brought new pleasure to Jim. Indeed, the success of my dedicated pursuit to his enjoyment was solidified when he took special delight in one of the museums that I had worried would be a lesser attraction. Although the museum was off the beaten track, rather deserted – and rather musty – I sensed that it would call to the musician in Jim. And I was not to be disappointed when I saw how entranced that Jim was by all of the power that the museum held. One would have to be a true musician at heart to take pleasure in the somewhat dusty and desolate exhibits of players gone by. And Jim is a true musician.

My wish now. On our last day I told Jim that I wanted to see a statue that I had read about. It was a few miles away and we would need to walk it. At this point, we had already walked through miles and miles of Nashville. Jim had blisters on his legs from his cowboy boots, complete with a particular boil that looked painful and oozed with blood. He assured me that he could make the trek to the statue because it was important to me (and he wasn’t about to acknowledge my “I told you so” that he hadn’t brought another more comfortable pair of shoes to wear – after all, according to him, we were in Nashville where boots were a must!)

And so we walked through incredibly hot and sweaty weather to visit Athena. Goddess of Wisdom and Justice. For some inexplicable reason, She is one of my personal icons. I can’t explain how her story wants to echo in my life and my times. She was known to do battle to protect those who were her people; those who were important to her. As I hope that I can tirelessly pick up the mantle for those of mine.

We sat all alone in chamber that houses the statue of Athena. I was embarrassed to admit to Jim – (my husband of thirty years!) – that if the myths were true of how lives descend and repeat over and over again from the ancestors of our past, I would hope that I would be from the lines of Athena.

You might not know that I hate my feet, and especially my toes, with a passion. Indeed, my sisters and I have occasionally sat together and compared our toes. With the exception of my sister Kerrie who has beautiful feet, we all have groaned over how we could be saddled with such an ugly as our feet.

As Jim grappled with the new knowledge of how very much I wanted Athena to run through the chords of my life, he simply looked at me and said “You have her feet”. And he was right.

I have never been more complimented in my life as in that moment. Me, with my ugly feet, have found the most wonderful and understanding man. A man who instinctively knows the very right thing to say at the very right moment. I am struck in the knowledge that life has delivered me the very best there can be in my travelling companion.

I smile up at Athena. She knows it too.

Ugly toes and all.