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Her tiny hands tapped out the rhythm in time with Nana’s foot. She was a big girl now. Helping out. The stitches appearing at her command to the rat-a-tat-tat of her little hand upon that great big wheel. Whoosh…whoosh. The material slipped seamlessly through her fingers. Just as the final sands slipped from the top of the hour glass. Pooled at the bottom. Ready to be turned. To begin again. Another turn at the fabric of life…fragile though its stitches be. She held up the tiny dress. It was so small. So impossibly small. Like the doll dresses that Nana had made for her at that ancient machine. But Nana was gone. Had been gone for over twenty years. A life time. An eternity…or so it seemed. She picked up a pink bow and sewed it about the tiny hole where the neck would be. She fiddled with it for several impossibly long moments. It had to be perfect. It just had to be. Nothing else would do. Perfection. ‘Good girl.’ The words echoed off the sides of her mind. Bounced for an eternity. I could see she was truly enjoying this. This was more like a massage I would do during a cooling down period, but she wanted most of the massage that way. Before I finished she even dozed off for a few minutes. She felt very much at ease. She said, “My feet and legs feel much better and I have this warm tingly feeling all over. I’m so glad Barb talked me into coming here.” I thanked her for coming and told her I was glad I could help. A couple of weeks later Barb was back for some new experiences. And shortly thereafter Marilyn had returned for additional treatment. I could see a pattern generating here. I could only hope that it would continue.Well, this has been going on ever since Marilyn came back for her second massage. And, here we go again, she started talking about all the massages I've given people, and mentioned one in particular. Yes, she wanted a massage just like the last one that Barbara had. This was the beginning where it all started. All the wet and slippery details.
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