Twelve years ago, I entered into a relationship with the best pair of shoes I had ever owned. Today, they gave up their sole.
It was mere puppy love as I picked out my Lowa’s amid a myriad of other potential mates as I prepared for my first trip to Vietnam where we had a fairly wicked mountain hike in 90+ degrees and high humidity. I had no idea of what our future held. After our intense Vietnam date, I made like the Bachelor and prematurely asked my first pair of shoes for their laces in marriage. It was a wonderful relationship. They kept my high arches in absolute comfort through rocky Texas walks, muddy Vietnam hikes and forested Washington journeys. They also provided me passionate podiatric attention through trips to searingly paved amusement parks, across the cobbled stones of European cities, and circling over grass clippings of the backyard.
Today, they breathed their last as I mulched leaves on a vacation day at home. I’ll admit it. My “allergies” acted up when I saw what had happened (much akin to the indoor, “No I am not sad, I was just cutting onions.”). So goodbye, my lovely Lowa’s. You shall be missed. And though I can get another pair of you at REI, no insoles shall ever caress my feet like you did. Dios te bendiga…
The Shoe Widower