I took my heels out,
intending to donate them.
I was not ready.
Ten years have gone by.
Someone could put them to use.
I know that but still ….
My heels remain here
where I can touch and see them
until I let go.
intending to donate them.
I was not ready.
Ten years have gone by.
Someone could put them to use.
I know that but still ….
My heels remain here
where I can touch and see them
until I let go.
6 comments:
OMG!!! I just wrote my blog post before reading yours, and talk about great minds...
I wonder if the shoes are merely symbols of our unwillingness to be resigned with our fate!
Whatever, mine still remain, also!
Oh my, such an emotional nerve about shoes. I miss my shoes so much. Now I wear only one pair and some times another - neither of which are classy or God forbid - sexy! I love your heels Judy - I have a pair of cowboy boots I can't let go of.
Love to you
Gail
peace......
Muff, our timing is uncanny but I suspect we female MSers think about our heels at least once a year. I suspect I keep mine in part because deep down I'm still hoping I can use them again. Hah! I'd need full body pads to avoid serious injury.
Gail, back when I wore heels, I didn't think I had such an emotional attachment to heels. In fact, I probably looked forward to kicking off my heels at the end of the day. But, see, it was a choice back then. That makes all the difference.
My old running outfit is my "shoes" - still in my open closet as running is not possible any longer.
The long tights and one of the thermal sweater shirts had a "second life" this summer on the sailing trips as they helped me stay warm (multi layers of clothes) during cold weather/nights - suddenly I was happy that I was clinging on to the appearal for years
Ah yes...shoes! I have finally disposed of all my heels, even my Manolo Blahnik's. It was just too difficult for me to see them in the closet. I do have photos of them all though!
Anne, I wish there were a second life (for me) with my heels, but I suspect the only second life they will have is if I donate them.
Karen, I'm still stuck with not wanting to let them go because it feels like I'm giving up. As if I have a choice in whether I have MS or not. Maybe, this poem is my first small step toward the act of donating them.
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