Aunt Lucy’s Shoes. . . March 6, 2013
She bought those gorgeous Italian shoes, even though her husband told her not to. . . they were too expensive. . . but she bought them anyway. Something inside of her called to her, to manifest those shoes into her life and inside her closet so she could admire their beauty and craftsmanship, and someday wear them. Something about them called out to her and she just knew these gorgeous shoes were her shoes! She just had to have them. . . Shoes that she would admire and hide inside the back of her closet from her husband, until one day she would dare to wear them. But Aunt Lucy would never wear those gorgeous Italian shoes or place her own feet inside of them, except for the day she first tried them on. They remained inside the treasure chest of a cardboard box that kept them hidden inside the dark corners of her closet. . . away from sight. Secret places that women hide their secret belongings and dreams from their husbands. Secret desires unspoken and never shared. Secret passions that lay hidden inside the heart space and imagination, waiting to erupt at just the right moment.
Uncle Larry found them a few weeks after her death. . . surprised and bewildered by this finding of these fine Italian shoes in the dark, hidden corners of her closet. Remembering he told her not to buy them, he just sat there with the shoes in his hands and smiled through his tears and grief, remembering her feet when she tried them on, remembering her beautiful smile when she admired them. He had loved her feet for 45 years, and every night in their shared bed, it was their feet that met and touched in the dark slumber of night dreams.
In this precious moment, he holds the shoes, like an alter to the Christ, like keys to his heart that Aunt Lucy never wore, and finally allowed himself to grieve and mourn her passing. Holding these gorgeous Italian shoes in his hands that she so admired, he realizes there is a sacred mystery here. . . something about Aunt Lucy’s longing for beauty and love and dance and movement and the journey of life and death itself. . . while she laid in her hospital bed, shoeless. . . awaiting her passage through the veils.
In his darkest hour of despair a smile is brought to his lips as he embraces the visible form of what is now his invisible Beloved. Even though he did not want her to buy these gorgeous shoes she has never worn, he is so grateful for their presence on this day as he calls to ask me if I would like to have them. I say yes with honor and respect, knowing in my heart I will receive them as a treasure of his love for her. . . knowing there will be new moments of revelation for Aunt Lucy’s Shoes.