I was thinking of my late father today and was reminded of something that would probably be seen by most people today as a bit bizarre. Actually, if memory serves, my friends thought it was strange even back then in the 60' and 70's.
My dad worked as a labourer in construction most of his life and many times he would come home late and always exhausted. That's not the bizarre part. When dad came home, he was (obviously) kinda dirty. Oftentimes, he would plunk himself on a chair in the basement (we had a finished basement with a walkout) and call out to us.
It was an understood signal that one of us, us being the two younger siblings, or mom if she wasn't too busy, was being summoned to go and wash my father's feet. At the best of times my dad would have had a hard time washing his own feet since he was short and stocky. Bending over after working hard all day was an effort he didn't need. We even used to unlace and pull his construction boots off much of the time.
It didn't seem an extraordinary thing to us. Even then, I knew that the washing of someone's feet was performed in Biblical times as a show of respect, and our whole family having come from the "Old World" and being Catholic, we were steeped in tradition and the old ways. If Jesus could wash a friend's feet, who were we to refuse to wash our father's feet?
I also remember how funny I thought it was that when one of us kids showed reluctance to perform a small task he tried to assign, he would sometimes say "It's not like I'm asking you to wash my feet and drink the water." It was amusing then, but even more so now, because of the discontinued custom--as if simply washing someone's feet isn't a big enough imposition to make the point, drinking the water had to be tacked on.
These days, I imagine kids whine if they're asked to wash the car...even their own.
No comments:
Post a Comment