It’s been a tear filled day for me. My tears have been of joy, sadness, dreams, and the scope of the shoes I’ve alway wanted to wear. I love a great pair of shoes, however, Carrie Bradshaw I am not. I long to be the little girl who plays dress up in her mommy’s shoes. I long to be her only because my mother still walked the earth at that time.
I remember the shoes of early motherhood. They were busy, tired shoes, long days, longer nights but happy feet. My shoe choice might have faltered to sneakers but I wanted to run from child to child to never miss a moment. I loved slipping in to dress shoes on the weekends and being the mommy, the woman, but we were eager for slippers, quiet shoes to slip from room to room to kiss tiny foreheads.
My closet of shoes have allowed me to walk many paths. I loved wearing my Mother of the Groom shoes, it brought back the days of my wedding shoes. My father walking me down the aisle, my mother looking onward. There are people that walk this earth that say shoes are not important, I beg to differ. The designer may not matter but the path is one of a kind!
My shoes have been to many countries, visiting my children, touring with my husband, leaving my mark. My boots were made for traveling when our middle child uprooted the nest and moved to Texas. Those boots were not strong enough to stop my tears of pride or my tears of longing when I left so she could leave her footprint in the world.
My next set of shoes, will be the pair that will unpack the youngest at University this Fall. They will be smart, fashionable, forgiving with a comfortable sole ~ kind of like me.
As Mothers Day approaches, I miss the banter of my children under one roof, the sound of my mothers shoes, the laughter of her heart and her tears at our accomplishments. I long to fill her shoes, to be a strong, proud, loving woman …… I think often I am so close, then the Jersey Girl in me ditches her shoes and runs barefoot in the sand ~ now that leaves an impression!