Feet…don’t fail me now!

 

Tucked in my closets

Are boxes of shoes

Black, White and Yellow

Plus a few Blues

 

I have an addiction

But have no despairs,

I love them all dearly

Here are just three of the pairs…

                   (They like to speak for themselves…)

 

Gladiator Sandals, here; pretty, aren’t we? 

Well, looks are very deceiving; we are absolute feet torture!  She’s worn us just once and whenever she opens the box to look at us, her toes curl up in the fetal position.  Our soles are so thin that stepping on a miniscule pebble feels like rock climbing; from the first moment she put us on, she complained about fashion being so painful.  A matching handbag and wallet were purchased to compliment a fabulous outfit that she wore to a bridal shower last year but now, we all sit, forgotten and ignored, in her closet.  

 

 

We… are sophisticated and very stunning pumps…

She put us on when she got all dolled-up for a wedding where we mostly stayed hidden from the limelight because…her hubs doesn’t dance.  Her feet tapped along to all the great music during the festivities, making it out to the dance floor for just one, slow dance and then, the night was over.  Now, we’re back here in our box where she’s ready to give us away.  Free, to a good home, size 7.  Maybe,  one day, we’ll trip the light fantastic on some happy feet.

 

Sneakers, just sneakers…

We aren’t  just any ordinary athletic shoes, mind you, each of us carried her over the hills and dales of the Berkshire Mountains in Massachusetts recently for a Multiple Sclerosis walk event.  

Seven miles that was supposed to be just five but was changed last-minute at the starting line.  Seven miles of bopping-along with her iPod blaring tunes like…”Feet, don’t fail me now!”  Seven miles of walking on narrow, heavily trafficked roads where the yearly “leaf peepers” driving along rudely forced her, and other participants, into the gulleys or blew their horns in annoyance. 

Of course, she reciprocated by flipping each one the bird; hey, she’s  from New York!  Don’t eff with her…ever!

She’s proud of us; we helped to do some good that day.  Along with some of her family, we walked on behalf of her dear girlfriend who has suffered with MS for years.  Dotti is Godmother to two of her children and all three kids regard Dotti as their Aunt; she is that special.

Even with everyone’s efforts, hopes and prayers, Dotti’s condition continues to deteriorate but, she’s such a strong woman.  Three years ago, she went through an experimental process where cells were removed with the plan of having them cleansed and re-inserted to thwart further progression of the disease.   A lack of government funding which supports such treatment finds Dotti waiting..still.

So, we are special sneakers.   We gave our fair share of encouraging support when her legs felt like rubber; we steered her clear of some, but not all, dog poop that decorated the roadways (Massachusetts residents seem to avoid the use of pooper-scoopers) and…she didn’t have one blister!

This is us…..

                           

A shoe is an item of footwear intended to protect and comfort the human foot while doing various activities. Shoes are also used as an item of decoration.

Some shoes were made for talkin’.

 

 

This was a response to a writing prompt from ….


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When there are no words…

Along with a group of friends, I went to visit another friend on Monday afternoon.

This lovely woman and her family came to this country years ago with the hope of having a better life and becoming citizens. 

It took some time.  They dealt with an unscrupulous lawyer who defrauded them out of their hard-earned money in their attempt to gain citizenship but finally, they came to realize their dream.  We offered heartfelt words of congratulation.

We all got to know Maria when she worked at our salon; we learned from her and she, from us.  We shared words and laughter.

They watched their two children, a son and daughter, gain a proper education and flourish.  Their beloved son, Edwin, was in graduate school, preparing to become an attorney. We offered our words of praise.

And, on Monday, we went to visit this loving family.

We heard Maria cry and as she asked us how she will ever get through this.  We struggled for words that got caught in our throats, mixed in with tears. 

 

Early last Saturday morning, Edwin Sandoval and his best friend, Pete Caruso, died in a car crash.  There are no words, no rationale that can bring consolation to parents who lose a child. 

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Dear Me, not yet to be….

                                                     

 

September 7, 1961

 

 

Hey there,

Wow, you’re finally sixteen, a big day in a girl’s life.  Happy Birthday! 

I knew that you would open up that favorite book,  A Girl Can Dream, once again and find this letter that I left for you.  Reading has always been your escape, a doorway that takes you away from the hurt and into a world where you become someone else in a happier story.

I’m sorry that no one made a big deal of this special day and you’re feeling sad.  This is something you should have gotten used to as you’ve grown.  Parties have never been something of importance to your parents and, right now, you’re sitting there on the bed, hoping for a surprise of some sort before the day is over.  It won’t happen, just as with all the birthdays before this one.  You’ll wake up tomorrow morning promising yourself that, someday, things will be different.  Trust me,  any changes in life begin with the decisions you make but, you already know that by now.

For a teenager, you are strong in so many ways, having dealt with things that no young person should have to endure.  Some day, way in the future, you might be able to help others who went through all you have but, for now, it’s so difficult to share that pain with anyone, not even your very best friend, Helene`.

The road ahead won’t be easy and you will make mistakes; we all do.  The important thing is what we learn from these occasional wrong steps and how we manage to become more productive adults in the process.  Remember, no one is perfect!

Right now, you’re experiencing that dizzy feeling of a first big romance and  smile whenever you think…of him.   In time, this flicker of what you think is love will turn to sleepless nights and tears in your pillow, ending when another girl steals him away.  Trust me, that empty feeling in your stomach that makes you ache all over will pass; it will just seem like it’s taking forever.  One day, you’ll look back and think how silly you were in feeling so devastated over that high school romance and feel happy that you didn’t end up with him  You will be happier still that “the other woman” got what she deserved. 

Those dreams you have of  someday leaving home to become a Stewardess, well, they will remain wishful thinking.  And, any hope of college will be quashed by your father who feels, unless you plan on being either a teacher, or nurse, there’s no way you’ll go to school just to earn a “Bachelor of Nothing” degree.     It will be the world of Business for you, so grin and bear it even when you find yourself sitting behind some desk feeling all cooped-up and wanting to do so much more with your life; someday, you will.

Some heartbreak will never fully disappear; you’ll learn that when you reach your twenties and make a choice that will leave a permanent hole in your heart.  Part of you will always be missing but remember that you made the best decision; not everyone could have been as brave.

The endless turmoil at home will end in a few years when your parents finally divorce but as one door closes, another will open and bring its share of conflict.  That too, will pass but not your mother’s dependency on you for years to come.  I promise you that you will get through that, as well.

Marriage?  It will come, along with its ups and downs;  so will children, a home of your own and, someday, grandchildren!  Yes, you, a Gramma and, you will be a very cool one, at that.  Trust me!

Keep writing… even though your mother always finds the notebooks that you keep as journals and throws them away; her belittling of your writing just makes you eager to do it more. She can’t discard your thoughts and memories, no matter how hard she tries.  

I know, you’re sitting here, reading this and wondering how I know so much about you, wanting to believe the hopeful things I’m sharing yet fearful of what is still unknown.   That fear can be paralyzing but you cannot allow it to imprison your spirit and sense of adventure as you explore what this world has to offer in years to come.

Learn to trust; not everyone in your future will be like the hurtful shadows of people in your past.  Learn to love those closest to you and enjoy the beauty of life as it was meant to be.

At this moment, all you want to do is grow up as fast as you can but please, hold on to these precious years of youth for they pass by almost with the blink of an eye.  We’re given a one-shot chance at life without any option to go back and do it again.  Suddenly, one day, there are more years behind us than on the horizon and we’re amazed at how quickly that time has gone.

Remember…hold onto sixteen…as long as you can!

Love,

Patty

 

p.s…..Don’t marry a man who can’t dance!

 

Sharing an older post for my very first link-up with yeah write!

 

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