My grandmother used to say: the feet are the oldest servants in the house. They never complain. That is why you must look at them yourself — because they will not tell you when something has gone wrong.
If sugar sickness lives in your body, your feet may stop feeling heat the way they used to. A woman I knew washed her feet in water she thought was gentle. Her hands told her nothing. Her feet said nothing. It was her granddaughter, visiting, who saw the burn. So we learn this: do not trust the feet to warn you. Look with your eyes.
Here is the evening, done slowly.
One — test the water at your wrist, not your foot. Only warm. If it is too much for the wrist, it is too much for the feet, even if they say nothing.
Two — wash, do not soak. A gentle washing with a soft cloth. Not a long sitting in water — long soaking softens the skin too much and softened skin tears easily.
Three — dry with care, and especially between the toes. Press, don't rub. Between the toes is where dampness hides, and dampness is where trouble begins.
Four — a little oil on the tops and the soles. Never between the toes. The skin above and below likes to be softened. Between the toes must stay dry.
Five — look. Every night, under a good light. Turn the foot. Look at the heel, the sole, the sides, between each toe. If your eyes or your back make this hard, use a mirror on the floor, or let someone you trust look for you. There is no shame in being looked after.
And now the part that matters most:
Any new cut, blister, red spot, dark spot, swelling, or sore — that goes to the doctor, quickly. Not next week. Quickly. A small thing on a diabetic foot is not a small thing. This ritual is comfort and dignity; it is not treatment. Keep every medicine your doctor gave you, keep every appointment. The tradition walks beside the medicine — never in its place.
And to the children far from home:
You cannot check your mother's feet from Boston, from Montréal, from Paris. But you can call at the same hour every evening. You do not have to lecture her. Just ask, the way you would ask about the rain:
"Manman, ou gade pye w aswè a?" — Mama, did you look at your feet tonight?
Ask it every night until it becomes the sound of your voice in her house. Some mothers will not do it for themselves. They will do it because their child asked, and because it is one more minute on the phone with you.
That is not nagging. That is love, arriving on time.