It’s been cold here in the Heart of America this winter. Especially at 5:30 and 6:00 a.m. So I drive down to the mall and walk for an hour or so. Exercise.
Well, yesterday seemed no different than other mornings. Cold, a little icy here and there, a gentle wind. I went so late that I saw the beginnings of a beautiful sunrise. Once inside the mall, I took off my coat, gloves and ear muffs; stretched a little and took off walking. Same as other mornings.
Along the way, maybe half way, I happened to be talking with someone about my shoes. They are special shoes; shoes I’ve had since at least the year 2000. Can anyone say 14 years? “Oh, you should take care of your feet,” my walking companion said. “You should get new shoes every….” Well, more often than 14 years. I had to explain that I rarely wear these shoes. I kept them because they are so near and dear to my heart.
Ever wonder how an old pair of shoes can be near and dear to your heart?
In 2002, in the apartment building where I lived, a fire burned up everything we had. In the morning, we left the house. In the evening we came back to nothing. All that we owned were my pickup, her car and the clothes we were wearing—including those shoes. So I kept them as a memento.
Well, then this happened yesterday morning. When I finished my walk and headed back to the car I heard, Ka-flop-ka-flap! Ka-flop-ka-flap! Ka-flop-ka-flap!” What? But the sound went away after a few more steps, and away I went back home. Later, in the afternoon, while I was outside enjoying spring-like weather, I heard that noise again. I investigated and discovered that my cherished shoes had broken. The sole on one shoe was Ka-flopping-ka-flapping!
When I got back in the house, I took my walking companion’s advice and disposed of those shoes. Obviously, it was nothing like a funeral, but for a minute it felt like it