My Rainbow Shoes

The reason I love my rainbow sandals so much isn’t because I got them on Block Island at the surf shop my dad loves, and it isn’t because they’re so comfortable it feels like I’m walking on air. Nor do I love them because they’re in great shape after four years of use. No, I love these shoes because the threads on the straps are starting to uncoil. The soles have worn down and my big toes nearly skim the surface of the earth when I wear them to take the dogs out to play. I love these shoes because the once light tan surface is now worn almost black from sweat and rain. I love them because each crevice is nearly filled with grains of sand, too stubborn to be moved from their new home. I love them because I wore them every day of my 15th summer, the one me and my best friend went to the amusement park nearly every day. I love them because I was wearing them the day I got stuck directing traffic at the triathlon in the pouring down rain. I love them because they’re the shoes I left sitting on the edge of the dock when I got to go tubing on the lake. I love them because they were the shoes I wore the day I moved into college. I love them because I was wearing them the day me and my first love stepped on to the ferry boat and I showed him my favorite place in this world. I love them because they are the shoes I wore every time I mowed the lawn and walked my dogs. I love them because they’re the shoes that have met sand, and dirt, the forest floor, airplane floors, school halls, shopping malls, stepped in gum, stepped in puddles, kissed rock jetties, and were on my feet when I was first kissed. I love these shoes because in every loose thread and in every place the sole is worn thin, a story is written. Each day of my life, each summer memory is recorded in the soles of these sandals. Every adventure, and every daily task is documented on those well-worn wonders.

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