A Walk in Her Shoes

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This morning I could see the sun shining through my window, casting the shadow from a tree in the yard onto my bedroom wall.  I needed to be out there.  Where I live in Oregon it is a rare treat to have a sunny day in winter.  It’s rare to feel crisp, clear air this cold.  For the first time in a long time I didn’t have to drag myself out of bed, it felt good to get up.  Dannica and I were going to go for a walk….together.  I stood in my closet looking down at the heap of options when I saw one of Dannica’s shoes poking out from under the boots I wore yesterday.  She was going to donate those shoes months ago and I salvaged them from the pile because I hate shopping and they seemed like they still had some good treadmill miles left in them.  Of course, I haven’t put them on until today, the best of intentions being what they are, but I’m glad that I saved them for today.  Today they are precious to me.

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I bundled up and stepped out into the world.  Having been hollowed out, my every sense has changed.  There have been times when my senses have felt weakened, deadened, muffled as if every bit of energy in me is going toward simply keeping my heart from exploding from the pain the way the blood rushes to the core to save us when we’re dangerously cold.  This morning, however, I felt as if every sense had been fully restored; not only restored, but restored with super powers.

I slowly filled my lungs with air so crisp and cold and clean I could feel the oxygen moving from my lungs into my blood, into the deepest, darkest, furthest reaches of my physical being.  I held that breath, allowing it to transform me, setting those dark places alight with a zillion frosty sparkles that I breathed out to coat the world all around me in brilliance.

I reached the park to find vast expanses of frost covered blades of grass, glittering pine needles, and the pond covered in a sheet of ice thick enough to support a seagull but thin enough to deceive one coming in for a landing. (That was kinda funny, poor thing 🙂

I walked quietly around the park and talked to the birds and the ducks and the trees and my Danni Jade.  I told her that we’re planning to buy her a gift; her very own park bench with her name on it, next to the water, under a beautiful tree.  Her gift to me will be the time I get to spend there with her.

Finally, I stood in the middle of the park, in the middle of that glimmering sea of grass, the very center of my universe, and I closed my eyes, raised my face to the sun and just listened.  My super power hearing sang of the rush of water in the distance, a million birds, so close I was sure if I reached my hand up, I’d touch one.  I felt the heat in the super powered sensory nerves of my skin; felt it melting the frosty sparkles I’d been filled with and nourished by.

Some of my favorite photos are the ones Dannica took of her sweet feet standing in the places she visited.  Looking at this morning’s photo of my own feet in her shoes, the first photo of its kind for me, I am comforted by the reminder that wherever I go, she is with me now, if that is what I want.  And it is.  Her eternal gift to me, super powers in her presence.

Why didn’t I use these super powers before I was hollowed out?  Why didn’t I see angel’s wings before in the clouds full of colors that exist nowhere else on earth?  Why didn’t I see that earth sparkles?  Why didn’t I see the heaven in my own heart?

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In heaven, everything sparkles.  Today, I am in heaven.

4 thoughts on “A Walk in Her Shoes

  1. Park Bench
    A poem by:
    Kambri Hatton

    So ordinary a park bench
    To a man’s simple eye,
    But much more meaning
    To the other passer’s by.

    So sporadically placed
    And taken for granted,
    Is this small piece of art
    Made from something once planted.

    Made by the hands that
    Meant so much more ,
    Than the traditional intent
    The park bench was made for.

    This bench is a small piece
    Of God’s painted canvas,
    Which as you can see
    Is everything around us.

    This bench has a spirit
    That takes you back,
    A bridge over time, beyond the trees,
    A journey across your memories.

    This simple park bench
    Provides a good sense of aid,
    A feeling in which after you left
    Should have stayed.

    Not just a seat in the middle
    Of the park, but a sculpture
    To sit on, something truly art.

    My dear Aunt Melissa, I this poem I wrote a while back has returned to my mind with a much more powerful meaning than before. I thought I would share it and also say that I love the park bench idea.. It would be a beautiful tribute… I love you dearly and miss you more than anything right now.

    • Ohhhh, Kambri, sweetie, thank you… your poem is so beautiful as are you. Keep writing and singing and showing the world your light. It is one of the brightest I have ever seen. I love you more than I can say.

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