Shoes

I used to have lots of shoes.  Shoes that went on my feet at the end of my legs that used to match (the shoes and the legs).  My legs don't match anymore in color, hardware, ability or shape.  But, back to the shoes....

These are the kinds of shoes I used to have;

Errand Shoes - for things like trips to the salon to get my hair done.  I don't need these anymore since I don't have hair.  These same shoes I would wear to the grocery store.  I still have groceries, but other people get them now.  

Sandals - to get my nails done, so the polish wouldn't smudge.
When my white cell count is low, when I am sick, when I am in active treatment, I cannot get a manicure or pedicure due to the high danger of a fungal infection.  That would be unthinkably bad with a compromised immune system.

Running Shoes - I used to complain about running, but it was really blissful - true free time to turn on my iPod and go.  I can't run anymore - for life.  My new leg has it's limits, and that is clearly limit number one.

Work Shoes - for my really cool job planning the important events of people's lives.  When my oncologist told me osteosarcoma is debilitating on every level, and I wouldn't be able to work, I thought, "Ha!  You don't know me, I am going to work through this." HA! Was on me.  That, he would tell me, is why he gets 'the big bucks' he knows these things.

House Shoes - for cooking in, for spontaneous dancing, tidying my house and generally walking around and sneaking up on my kids in.  I still have them, but only one fits, the other foot is too swollen from leg surgeries.

Fancy Shoes - for formal events and going to dinner in.  My fancy shoes are tucked away now, they will have to be replaced with fancy flats.

I now have two pair of shoes that I wear.  They are woefully practical, and guaranteed to make me blend in with the hospital set.  But, hey - what else would a bald headed woman with mismatched legs, unpolished nails, and no place to go (but the hospital) wear on her feet?

My most important and joyful shoes are my Mom shoes.  I still have these, always will. Since my world has slowed down significantly, I get to spend the time I am not in the hospital, blissfully undistracted from my vocation of motherhood.  

Lately, our daughters mother me more than I wish they had to.  They make dinner, tidy the house, bring me treats, open and hold doors for me, and make sure I don't fall down stairs. But, I am still the Mom of these insightful, compassionate, extraordinary young women that have, and continue, to exceed our dreams on every level.  I happily trade in any and all shoes for the privilege of wearing my Mom shoes.  

This Mother's Day, I honor these three girls that gave me the greatest gift in life, my life as their mother.  The love my daughters give me every day is love defined, unflattering shoes, mismatched legs and all.