Clomp, clomp, clomp. I so clearly remember what his work shoes sounded like when he walked in the door. He had a heavy step with a shuffle sound. His shoes were so big and heavy, and he left them in some dangerous places. I tripped over them several times when I got up in the night.
I got out some of his shoes a while ago, and they laid around the house for a couple months. It was a strange thing to do, but I guess I missed tripping over his shoes.
When we first got married, he would polish his shoes regularly. He took good care of his clothes and shoes. He stopped shining his shoes later on when life got busier. I’m not sure why. I still have the shoe polish.
He had a pair of crocs that he liked to slip on when he went outside to take the garbage out or get something out of the car. They are navy blue. I still have them. He would never go outside barefoot. I think I am the unusual one here, because I will go outside in the snow barefoot, but he would never entertain that idea. He wouldn’t sacrifice his comfort for the time it took to find the shoes and put them on. Smart guy.
He had some spongy yellow and blue flip flops. I still have those too. He would wear them to the beach and swimming. He loved swimming, and he went to the pool often. He was always excited to get as far into the water as he could when we went to the beach. I have fond memories of seeing him far away at the lake or ocean. It is hard to go swimming without him now. The shoes are not a good consolation prize.
He had some walking shoes, and one of them always squeaked when he walked. He was wearing them on our last walk together, the same day he died. I still have those too. They were handed to me in a bag from the hospital labeled Patient Belongings.
The last shoes he wore were white slippers. His mom and I put them on him before he went into the casket. He still has them on. I don’t have those ones.