those little black patent leather shoes

For my mother's 97th birthday, we gave her a pair of black patent leather shoes.  

They were not little.  By that time in her life, she was sometimes wearing an 8.  The bunions on her toes were the issue.  She was excited as she opened the box and tried them on.

It was March 12, 2020.  The next day the world started to shut down.  And in some ways, I think that was the beginning of my very social mother's decline.  The Westminister Staff arranged twice weekly facetime visits for me with her.  She really didn't get this no visits from Paula business.  She tried to hear and Jenny helped as she could but it just wasn't the same as a face-to-face.

It was several months before my siblings, her sisters, and our children could visit her.  We often met outside the Health Care Center.  Once I wheeled her over to a dock where she was greeted by my son and his family.  They were in a boat. shhhh.

Sometimes she would mention those shoes. When was she going to get to wear them again?  I guess I thought  - well never.

For mother's 99th birthday, I bought her a pretty sweatshirt and some new black slacks. I went to her room to help her get ready for our family who would come to greet her.

We had been in the atrium at Westminster only a short while when my mother scowled.  

I had forgotten to change her shoes.

She was at a party.  She needed her little black patent leather shoes.  LITTLE black patent leather shoes.

So I went upstairs and. . . no shoes could be found. 

We learned that sometimes my mother would take some of her things and move them to another location.  More of her decline.  Did I see it?  Probably not.

And now they are now on a shelf in my garage.  The rest of her belongings are packed and ready to go to Goodwill.  Well, almost the rest. 

One other item is a size 12 pants suit that she loved.  The day before our mother's celebration of life, I asked one of my granddaughters if she could make it a size 8 in the next 28 hours.  

Too big an ask???

So I have these shoes - and an outfit - both too big for me - but neither that I am willing to give up.

I don't know why

It's not like I haven't had to do this before.  1998 - what to do with Rich's clothes?  I took them to a clothes closet that was operated by St Paul's Episcopal Church.  2009 - daddy's clothes were passed on to grandsons who could wear them and I think we took the rest to Goodwill.

When our mother was moved to a private room at Westminster, we brought her clothes and personal belongings to my garage.  They've been here for over a month.  All neat and packed and ready to go.

I imagine by my posting this I might get suggestions as to what to do with the shoes, the pantsuit, and even the boxes that are full of her clothes.

That's fine as long as no one thinks that not having the shoes, etc., will help me not miss my mother.

I'll let you know how it goes.

May your life have enough sunshine   

To make you appreciate the shadows