It might not be a big deal to you and it’s not like I lost a living soul, but I discovered I am losing two soles. My beloved sandals are disintegrating. No tears will be shed, but fallen rain soak my arches. It’s as depressing as the autumn clouds and frosty mornings. I gave them plenty of vacation time in the summer weather and now they fail me.
Time to open the scary closet with dress shirts and slacks, suits and other ridiculous clothing like long pants. On the floor in my one-eighth of a closet is a box of footwear on the floor. Hoping amongst the polished shoes that double as mirrors, the sneakers and other torturous foot prisons, I can find a new friend of sandals. I hope we’ll hit it off and can travel joyfully down the path ahead.
Going to miss you, old friends. I am grateful for your service and getting me to this point, but your treads are shot and I need to keep moving on. There will be no socks at your funeral, I promise. That drawer most likely has cobwebs in it. I’ll go barefoot before I surrender to cloth toes.