In memory of the dearly departed...

When I put them on in the morning, I didn't know it would be for the last time.

No more clunking through the lobby at work, echoing off the tiles. No more dropping loudly at the grocery store when the slip off my feet. For you see, my favorite wooden-soled shoes have reached the end of their life.

I had no idea how much I would like them. When I was yuckily newly pregnant with Ben back in July of 2004, I picked them up at the Nordstrom sale. For the first few years, they were just summer shoes. But, as my desire for simple, de-stockinged feet became greater in the past few years, I wore them year-round (you can get away with that in Utah, as long as it's not snowing on that particular day.) My friend Melanie and I have often expressed our love for wooden-heeled shoes; now those conversations will be monologues.

It was a simple concrete stair that brought them to their doom. I guess the 7+ year old weathered wood couldn't take my slamming into the step. A splinter of wood flew from my shoe, exposing the nails below. I knew it was a goner before I got up the rest of the stairs.

Good-bye little shoes. I will miss you. So will my coworkers, who will never again hear me pounding up the stairs or across the lobby again.

Shed a tear, friends, shed a tear.