
It is May! After a long dreadful winter and a wet and sappy spring, the sun and temperatures are finally warmer. But that turning of my stomach has also reappeared. May never fails to remind me that my mom is no longer here to celebrate. But this year, as I cried alone in my car, I kept asking myself how could I honor her memory in a way that is tangible? How can I encourage mothers to be fierce, confident, or a great friend like she was? Slip into her shoes perhaps.
This is very cliché, we all trying to make sense of the last 365 days in the last hours of New Years Eve. But here I am looking at my old shoes and considering which are really old and which ones are to keep. I realize that in certain ways I do this with my habits. Also with my goals and even relationships. Earlier this year I tried to focus on the word “disengage” in an attempt to be more purposeful on what I needed to be and get rid of bad habits, sin, and even activities that were good but I no longer felt passionate about.
This summer I wore running shoes and Birkenstock’s sandals more than ANY other shoes. This may not be of concern for many people, but for a gal who loves shoes it was strange. I traveled to Newfoundland, in the northeast of Canada, for two weeks with my family — a place everyone wanted to go… except me.
The feeling of a broken heel is a distinct one. It’s more familiar to gals walking on city sidewalks, getting their shoes stuck in vents, on electric escalators or on public transit. But sometimes heels break because of a worn-out shoe or poor manufacturing or simply because we abuse them by running or jumping.
I have this new pair of winter boots that I bought in the summer. Uh? I know! I am a bargain hunter addict. When it comes to shoes I do not care if the pair I find is for the right season. If it fits and it is the right price, I will take it!