Saturday, April 13, 2013

The Yard Shoe


Last weekend I accompanied my sister and her family to the annual Springtime Tallahassee parade. What a beautiful day it was! There was a slight chill in the air, the sun was shining and people were out in droves lining Monroe Street waiting for the parade to start. My brother-in-law had staked out the perfect spot early that morning so we could all enjoy an unobstructed view of the marching bands, floats and cars that carried people down the parade route.

 

As I sat on the blanket with my sister chatting endlessly about the latest with her job, I glanced down and quickly noticed that something was dreadfully wrong. To my shock and horror, she was out in public with a hole in the sole of her shoe. Typically this would have gone unnoticed but we were sitting Indian style and this holy shoe was out on display for all to see.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, we all have items in our wardrobe that we have literally and physically loved to death, but this shoe was beyond that. Those shoes were great, they had served their purpose for over two years, and my sister had worn them to death. After regaining my composure, I turned to my sister and said, “I know you love those shoes, but they are now yard shoes. As in, you are never to leave your yard wearing those shoes again!”  She looked down longingly at those shoes and nodded her head silently. She got the message. If she could not bear to trash them then she certainly could not leave the confines of her yard wearing them.

 

The moral of this tale is that you have to know when to say goodbye. You have to understand that when you have physically worn something down, it is time to retire that item knowing full well that it has served its purpose, and chances are you definitely got well beyond your money’s worth for that item.  It is okay to retire that item and replace it with something new. In my sister’s case, her feet will thank her in the long run when the soles of her feet are no longer coming in contact with the actual ground.

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