The Agony and Defeat of Stilettos

Stilettos have very high, thin heels. Your posture is changed when your feet are styling with stilettos and a balancing act is required not to twist an ankle...it might take some practice. While wearing these body slimming wonders, a quiet entrance into a room just won't happen. The tap, tap, tap will be noticed even in the noisiest room.

I could not let today go by without a word. Wishing "Happy Father's Day", has a new meaning for me. There is no one here on earth for me to express my deep appreciation and daughterly love. Just a short six months have passed since my daddy left this earth to live with his heavenly Father.

I am not grieving that loss today and definitely don't feel the agony and defeat of stilettos because I know where he is. My posture is different. My heart is not heavy with grief, but light with rejoicing...he would not want it any other way. I don't think of his passing without thinking of where he is. A few weeks ago, several people that Daddy knew well, joined him in Heaven. I imagined him greeting them with his left hand on their shoulder and his right hand reaching out to welcome them to worship...that is what Heaven is about. As Father's Day approached, I thought of visiting the cemetery...



but....he is not there. I honor him today and every day by the way I live...the way he taught me to follow Jesus.

Grief knocks you out of balance like walking on a thin, high heel. So many times in the last few months, I would have loved to laugh with him over a corny joke, ask for his wise and godly advice, or, yes, brush his dentures, trim his fingernails, or cut his hair one more time just as I did so often during the last years of his life. I have caught myself, unaware, heading in the direction of his nursing facility. (Haven't you felt like the car, having it's own mind, directed itself to a particular destination?) I would not ask him to come back if I could, but I do miss him.

For the last two days, we had our annual family garage sale. As we were packing up the last few many items that did not sell, I folded and boxed what was left of my daddy's clothes. I pulled the blue plaid flannel shirt that he wore to my nose to see if his scent was still there. The shirt had been laundered and sat in the Texas heat for two days. His scent was not there. Grief wanted to sneak in, but like the ping of a stiletto on a wood floor...it was loud and clear...my daddy is not here.

Grief is like putting on a pair of stilettos...a change in balance, posture, and awareness.

If the shoe fits, wear it well!