Column: Something About Nothing

“Grandma, why are you wearing Velcro shoes?” That is the question my granddaughter asked me on my last visit to her house. I could tell she was mystified as to why anyone that was not a toddler would wear Velcro shoes. I think I lost some of my coolness in her eyes if I had any to begin with.

I hadn’t thought too much about my purchase of Velcro shoes. I needed some new, everyday walking shoes and the ease of Velcro stood out when I was shopping. I wasn’t thinking about how it might look to those around me.

A few months ago my daughter brought up the subject of the shoes I had worn to a restaurant one day.

She told me the shoes didn’t look like me. She made the comment that they looked like old lady shoes and not ones I usually wore. They were Softspots, and they were comfortable Oxfords.

This was two people in the last few months commenting on my shoes. I hadn’t realized that I had a shoe persona in their eyes. I don’t worry too much about shoes. As long as they feel good, aren’t falling off of my feet and I can walk, I am happy. I don’t have a pair of shoes for every occasion. I tend to wear the same shoes over and over again. Apparently my choice of shoes in the past has been more stylish than my choice of shoes recently.

You would think growing up with a father who owned a shoe store that I would love shoes. The only shoe I was enamored with when I was growing up was the pretty shoes the shoe salesmen brought. They would give me the Barbie Doll-type samples so I could play dress up. I loved the high heels and the glass slipper styles.

When I was old enough to wear those heels, I did. I found out wearing the pointy, tall heels made a woman’s feet hurt. Of course, I still kept wearing them.

I used to marvel at the cute heels Oprah wore on her show. She would often take them off and complain as to how uncomfortable they were. I laugh when I watch detective shows and all these women are running after crooks in heels.

I wonder if long after I am gone that is what my grandchildren will remember about me, Velcro shoes.

It is interesting what kids remember long after a loved one is gone. When my mother died the only thing my one son wanted of hers was her old ratty-tat hat. That is one of his loved memories of his grandma. Another memory surfaced recently. His daughter was sick and coughing. He had tried everything. Finally he remembered his grandma had always given him a lemon and honey drink. He made one for his daughter and it worked. On his Facebook page he said “Thank you, Grandma Young.”

He didn’t remember any of toys she had given him. The things he remembers and cherishes about his grandma are the little things that were so much a part of her everyday life that she didn’t give it a thought.

My Velcro shoes are now part of my everyday life. My toes have twisted. I like easy and the thought of shoes with heels makes me cringe. If that is what my grandchildren remember about me, I will be fine with that. We never know the memories we are making with those that we love. If my Velcro shoes give them a laugh in the future it is an everyday memory. Or maybe when they are older, many years older, they will put on their Velcro shoes and remember me.

“Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.” — Charles Swindoll

 

Wells resident Julie Seedorf’s column appears every Monday. Send email to her at thecolumn@bevcomm.net. Her blog is www.justalittlefluff.com.