Barefoot Days Ahead
I went outside to water these flowers. In my bare feet.
My daughter noticed, which must mean I don’t do that very often. How uptight I have become.
I remember summer feet on hot blacktop going to the mailbox for my Seventeen magazine. Seventeen is gone, but the joy of sunshine on my bare feet isn’t.
I sat awhile on my deck and enjoyed the moment. Then I laid on my back for more heat on my face.
My children came to find me. “Are you OK? We thought you had a heart attack.”
Clearly, I need to shed the shoes and the decrepit persona more often.