I picked up your shoes today

A lifetime of steps held in my hands.

A flood of memories, my mind commands

Days of baby oil

And curls patted down with care

Reading for the days beginnings, waiting to share

Days of singing in the kitchen

Where “Sister on the Hill” and commodities intermingled

With clouds of bacon flavor and whiffs of cream of wheat, none ever singled.

Days of heading off to work

With cookies and milk and the same lunch pail

And leftovers from the night before, never stale.

Days of walking through boilers

Turning a wrench, operations and maintenance at hand

Safety always, machines run on demand

Days of being behind the wheel of a truck

Whether it was for a harvest or a drill

Production waiting, for needs to fill

Days of mowing the yard

And working on screen doors

And washing cars and sweeping floors

Days of tilling the garden

Piles of tomatoes and potatoes strewn on the patio table

Waiting for whomever came around, take them if you’re able

Days of polishing “Whitie” old or new,

Better gas mileage

Strategies, waiting to pursue

Days of Monday night bowling

No handicap needed

For that left hand curve thrown down the lane, pins heeded

Days of magnifying glasses

And coin books scattered about

Looking for the silver penny to finish the book out

Days of packing and planning

Trips in the Chrysler for five

Hoping everyone would get along and come home alive

Days of Sonic runs

Where one extra drink was bought

For the one that inevitably the car seat sought

Days of discipline

When a young teen’s mouth was more than should be

That was the last time “shut-up” came from me

Days where meals

Were never eaten alone

Always a time to sit together in our home.

Days of gatherings where the food was plenty

And card games led to a shout or two at your family place

“How can you shoot the moon with just an ace?”

Days where young hands

Waited for shovels of mud overturned

Wriggling, fat worms in the bucket squirmed

Days of fishing where seven poles were taken

But one pole sat silent while others became tangled

Your time spent cooking hotdogs and no kids strangled

Days of moving ceramic molds

And mixing slip

Always ready for new production, motors to equip.

Days of sitting on the front porch

Passersbys and commotion in the park

Sometimes a pigeon, sometimes a lark

Days of holding a cat

Or getting them out from under your feet

Making sure they got their share to eat

Days where steps became shuffled

But driven to one more step take

Hands trembled, uncontrollably did shake

Days of doctors

Under protest

Eat a good meal, get plenty of rest

Days where your feet were held

In a wheelchair resting place

You always showing you knew the floor was your space

Days where your words became lost

But within your eyes and smile

You knew and communicated… regardless,  all the while

A day where your shoes were removed

Your feet tired, from the journey, bent

They stretched and took new breath, eternal life sent.

I picked up your shoes today

A lifetime of steps held in my hands.

A flood of memories, my mind cherishes and keeps on command.