No tags yet.
I was taking out the trash one night when it hit me (I know…I totally expected my posts to come from glorious epiphanies, but that’s not the case). Before going to bed on a Tuesday evening, my dad asked me to take the trash to the bottom of the driveway. I wasn’t extremely tired and it was a warm evening, so I didn’t mind. Noticing my bare feet, I started to search for shoes to put on as I headed out the door when I realized that none of my shoes were downstairs. They were all neatly in my closet on my shoe shelf upstairs (Mama, I hope that makes you proud). I could’ve put on my brother’s Sperry Top-Siders or my mom’s flip-flops. The flip-flops would seem like the obvious choice, right? Not for me. I looked over and saw my dad’s shoes. He has a pair of loafers that he wears everywhere. He has worked hard in those shoes, enjoyed evenings on the patio with family and friends, and has supported me in all of my shows, swim meets, and diving competitions. All while wearing those shoes. It’s a reoccurring event : I’ll have to go outside for something early in the morning or late at night, and my dad’s loafers will always be there. They are reliable and trustworthy – much like my dad. Those are the shoes I chose to slip my small feet into on that Tuesday evening. And so began my trek down the driveway with the trashcan rolling behind me. I started taking notice of my dad’s shoes and realizing just how small my feet were in them. I could barely pick my own feet off the ground because I’d lose the shoe if I tired. And that’s when it hit me. No matter how much I grow…physically, spiritually, mentally, whatever you may have…I will always be my daddy’s little girl. Yes, the cliché saying, but these worn-down, beloved loafers are a testimony to that thought. I was walking in the shoes of the man who held me when I was first-born where he fell in love all over again. The shoes of the man that would brush my long, auburn hair one hundred times in the morning before walking me down to the bus stop at the end of the driveway (and yes, I wore my own shoes then). The shoes of the man who has had ups and downs, like all of us do, but knows that family, faith, and love aren’t going anywhere and will always be a safe haven. The shoes of the man that will give me away at my wedding to a man I hope will measure up to the kind of person, father, and husband my dad is. And daddy, I promise that every time I listen to James Taylor’s song, “You’ve Got a Friend,” I’ll sing it loud and proud – and I’ll sing it for you. I will always love you. I will always be your little girl.
