Two weeks ago I thought of shoestrings and the shoes that went with them. An old pair of canvas Nikes came to mind, bought on sale, bought during beloved church camp in Wichita, Kansas.
I mentioned I was an annoying teenager with a beloved Dad (and Mom). For some reason -- I can't remember why -- Dad and I were at cross-purposes. It was likely because I had been headstrong in doing my own thing. I can still feel the tension, a normal part of growing up.
This tension played over into this shoe business as I think my Dad thought I had spent too much. I remember being a bit hurt -- I was very (too!) sensitive after all. I had found a good deal and I thought I'd be kinda cool with that old Nike swoosh.
I miss my Dad so much it is hard to think clearly about this little incident from 43 years ago. But, having raised two sons myself I can know what my dear Dad must have been going through. There were 4 other kids, there was a job to fulfill daily (he was a Highway Patrolman), there was too much month at the end of the money, and his oldest son -- yours truly -- was wayward. Add to this the happy exhaustion of camp life -- long hours and the hot Kansas summer -- and problems are afoot.
But my soul feels happy tears today because while there may have been anger and bitterness at the time, there is none now. I know what my Dad meant, I know some of what he carried, and while those Nike shoes lasted a year at most before landing in the trash, my love for my Dad will grow more and more unto that perfect Day.
And that's where writing about shoestrings can take you.
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| Master Trooper Larry Lee Huff |
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