Shoes

I would like to take a moment to say goodbye…

to my black sketchers sneakers

that have gone on to a new life.

 

Here’s what happened:

I went up to the “mountain” with my dog, for a walk.

Here, they call this big hill a mountain, but I know better. I grew up at 8,200 feet.

Also, I would say “hike,” but a walk around the campground only counts as a walk (we were crunched for time).

Back at the car, my dog’s selective hearing kicked in, as he tuned in to all of the sounds around him, minus my voice, which was saying it was time to go home.

Sun was shining down in perfect cool-warm weather, with leaves rustling and that calm blanket of almost-autumn air.

So I let him think that he was winning, with his butt planted firmly in the dirt, back turned to me.

 

This is when I started listening to the conversation coming from a nearby parked car.

One guy was walking away with a load of camera equipment, and two girls….

One dressed in tights, fairy wings, and clown face paint.

 

I’m honestly not sure what look she was going for, but the white colored tennis shoes clashed, for sure.

She thought so as well, because she was stressing over the black shoes that she had left by her door at home.

I had an idea.

I had black shoes!

I checked the trunk of my car… and sure enough!

Walking over to the girls, I noticed that my feet were much smaller, but I offered up the shoes anyway.

 

In my half-thought, I think I figured that I could get a phone number and meet later to retrieve my shoes, and in a different half-thought, I figured that her feet would not fit into them anyway.

 

But then my mouth started spilling words before I really even knew what I was saying.

 

“Here, try these on. I think they are too small, but they are old and worn and will probably stretch out some.”

 

They were too small!

But they did stretch out some!

And She got her feet inside!

 

The girls were so grateful, I couldn’t take them back now.

“We will leave them here when we are done” one girl said.

 

But my mouth did more word-spilling.

“Oh, no. They are old, worn out shoes. And they will be stretched out when you are done with them. Go ahead and keep them! Really!”

 

They thanked my sincerely, and called me a hero.

 

But still, my heart sank a beat or two. Those shoes and I have been a lot of places and done a lot of things! It’s weird how sentimental I can get about inanimate objects. I loved those shoes!

Did I really mean to give them away?

Too late now.

 

Beat up and ragged… blown out on the sides.

Shaped to my feet, from the road and the miles.

 

No regrets!

 

We all must move on.

I won’t sing the blues.

Here’s a heartfelt goodbye, to an old pair of shoes.

.

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4 thoughts on “Shoes

  1. This is great! I am the same way with things like shoes/furniture/clothes/stuffed animals ( I could go on) I can see myself doing this same thing tho and regretting my urgency to solve someone’s problem at the expense of my sentimental hoarding.

    Like

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