squeaky clean feet

Isn't it funny the things that we remember so vividly from our childhood?  Things that our parents could have easily dismissed could be the very things that we treasure in our minds as we grow older. 

My sister Annie is 363 days older than me....pretty close in age.  We played together all the time in the dirt, in the mud, in the woods and of course shoes were not an option when you could just run around in bare feet.  At the end of the day inevitably our feet were as black as black could be.  My dad would sit us both on the double sinks and he'd scrub and scrub our feet until they were clean and night after night he savored all the giggles that accompanied the scrubbing.  He always made it fun, always had a new song to sing and always had a million kisses and hugs to shower us with.  After our feet were clean he would put us to bed and tell us all about his day and then say prayers with us and then our day was done.  Dad washing my little feet are some of the most precious memories I have of that amazingly wonderful man that I was blessed to call my father.

Tonight Haylee and Kerrington were out and about playing in the dirt and grass and gravel and who knows what else.  Kerrington got a bath...but Haylee was still out playing.  By the time she came in I didn't really feel like going through the whole bath routine again....so I hoisted her up on my sink and ran the water to wash her feet in my sink.  Tears almost fell from my eyes as I looked at her and envisioned myself as a little girl looking up at my dad.  Looking at Haylee often catches me by surprise because she's certainly all Miller and she has my father's eyes.   Though the moment was poignant I found myself savoring the opportunity to pass something to my daughter that was so special to me.  I told her how my daddy used to wash my feet just like I was doing for her and she always loves hearing about her grandpa. 

Oh, how I miss that man.  How I wish my girls could have been a part of his life and him a part of theirs.  I know they will one day be in his arms in Heaven, but I'm realizing that my dad is certainly alive in me and always will be and his legacy will go on even if it's with the simple act of washing little feet.