My Feet

They call it athlete's foot syndrome... All I know is that it's unpleasant, it itches and hurts. I've planned a week in Normandy and I'm counting on the miraculous virtues of the sea water to get rid of this parasite.

Ah my feet! It sucks right now; and this heat wave is not helping. I try to wear a good pair of shoes with air circulation, to make sure you are well hydrated, to put some tea tree between your toes... Nothing to do!

In addition to this damn microbe, blisters form on my left foot; the skin is hard and dry. My Dear Feet, do not give up, we will overcome this. We'll take a dip in the sea, and everything will be fine. Because honestly, I'm tired of those feet stories.

Ma had very dry feet, as a child, I used to help her remove the dead skin. I can still feel the callus of her skin under my fingers; I had to be careful not to remove the healthy skin; when it happened, it was painful, and it could bleed.

Ma's feet are quite a story... I remember that when my siblings and I were not quiet, she would threaten us: "Ani ta kawaté la ramara", which means in Soninke: "You'll get my dry feet!"

The feet are the roots, the stability, the anchorage. Everything wavered when she left. Now, it's like I'm drinking. There's loss, of course, and I wonder how I'm going to stay stable?

After all, I have both my feet intact. That wasn't the case for Ma. She had two toes amputated from her left foot. It wasn't enough, the necrosis was still there. So, to save her life, the surgeon cut off half of her foot, leaving a stump. Unfortunately, this kind of surgery is common with diabetics...

I only recently learned from her endocrinologist that taking her to the operating room was very difficult; she remembers my mother being in a state of disarray at the thought of being mutilated. My mother never confided in us this painful moment in her life, once again, she kept her suffering under wraps. After this episode, she never returned to her job as a cleaning lady.

A few years later, Ma cut her nails; one of them, cut too close, caused an infection... And wham! And here we go again with the amputation of two toes, this time on the right foot... Fucking diabetes!

I must refocus, unload my burden to welcome a renewal.

The sea will help me, the sea will take me as I am without judging me. It knows my suffering and my hopes. It will relieve my feet. The sea will carry me like a mother carries her child. The sea will comfort me like a mother console her child. The sea will rock me as my mother used to rock me on her back.

I am not early this morning. I'm on my way to the office and I've already been waiting for ten minutes at the subway station Liberté. No information about the delay and the platform starts to fill up.

Ah, the sound of the loudspeaker: "Due to a mechanical problem, the metro is not running between Maisons-Alfort Stade and Reuilly Diderot, it will resume at 11:30 am". And shit! What's this mess again? I'm going to have to take a mission to go to work... I'm all alone this morning... Anyway. I can hear the travelers' annoyance. An African woman is walking towards me, I can feel that she is going to talk to me, but I don't feel like chatting with her. She is wearing a long black djellaba from Dubai, the same style my mother could wear.

She is a cleaning lady, I am sure, and I bet she is finishing her morning shift. She says to me in Soninke "What's going on? I answer her in French "There is a technical problem, the subway starts again in 2 hours. If you go to Paris, you must get the metro at Porte de Charenton on foot. Do you know where that is?". "Yes, I know, it's straight ahead! I often walked the way during the strikes, I live in Paris". "Ok, good luck and have a good day!". "Thanks, good luck too".

I trace my way, I could make the way with her, but I don't feel like it. When I get out of the subway, I lower my mask, I'm not going to do this straight line with it on my nose.

It's terrible, I hear the woman's footsteps, I don't turn around and continue my way to Porte de Charenton.

I get off on the platform, I move forward, the metro is not there yet... I turn around and I see the woman again. She is still walking towards me. We told each other everything, and with the rules of distancing, no risk to find myself next to her. The subway arrives at the station, I press the button to open the door, I get on the train, and I sit in the four seats. The woman enters the same car and comes to sit next to me. Well, apparently, she doesn't care about the distance...

" They tire us with these transports!"

"Are you going to work?"

The woman lowers her mask, I do the same, it's easier to talk. I speak to her in Soninke.

"Yes, I'm going to work, I'm going to the 1st arrondissement."

"I'm going to the 11th arrondissement, that's where I live... I clean the offices at Liberté the subway station."

"It's tiring to do the offices!"

"Yes, my daughter, we don't earn much money, but that's how it is, we have no choice!"

"I understand, my mother did the same thing as you." "Oh really! Did she stop?"

I start to tell her in fast-forward about Ma' s last 11 months, the diabetes, the infection in the heel of her right foot, her long stay in the hospital, how the doctors got rid of her because of the COVID, the formation of her bedsore and her death a little over a month ago. She is touched and prays for my mom, my family, and me.

"Does she leave behind any very young children?"

"No, we are all grown up, but we are still children who have just lost their mother."

" Courage, my daughter, I know it's not easy, but tell yourself that no matter how serious the illness is, it's not going to take you away, when it's time to go, there's nothing you can do."

I nodded my head. We arrived at Reuilly Diderot, I had to get off, she asked me my last name and I asked hers. We exchange greetings and I go to the line 1. I am overwhelmed by emotions and my tears do not stop flowing until I get to the office. It's a good thing I'm alone this morning. I'm in pain, it goes all over my throat and I can't breathe. That's why, from the start, I wanted to avoid this woman. I don't talk about my mother outside of my siblings and close friends. I can also say that up to now, I've been handling my emotions well. But now, talking about it with a stranger who looks like her is painful... Too many things come to the surface. How am I going to heal myself from this? How can I ease this lack, fill this void?

As a result, my tailbone pain reawakens.

I fell on my butt a few days ago on the stairs at the office. Even though life gave me two good airbags, the shock is there! At the time, in order to eradicate the pain that was taking over my spine, head and forearms, I said to myself "Don't complain, Ma was lying in the hospital for months without complaining".

Now I can't stop crying, my back hurts, my mother is dead, I won't see her again. I don't belong in the office anymore; I need a change, it's vital! I don't want to fall or sink. I'm angry, it's the end of an era, nothing will be like before... It is not easy; I accept this ordeal that life imposes on me. Anyway, do I really have a choice? I say to myself that instead of undergoing, it is perhaps time to begin a new start on new bases.

So, in this period of change, either I let it happen without flinching, or I start a new beginning by giving myself the chance to bring my projects to life. That's it, I want to build in order to rise and blossom, to lead myself with heart by being kind to myself. So, Dear Sea, I humbly present myself to you today to unload my sadness and purify myself, to go inside myself and make peace. It is a new beginning that is certainly scary, but I must move forward, continue my path despite the lack. I now draw on this strength within me and activate it.

I have the burning desire to clean up my life, to get rid of my doubts and fears, to better welcome what must happen.