A Golden Hope

I got a pair of sexy, gold high-heeled shoes to wear to my son’s school’s auction later this month and I am a bit obsessed with my new purchase. I have tried them on for Taggart (“Yeah, they’re o.k. . . .”), Sage (“I wear them!”), and Jeff (“They don’t look very comfortable . . .”) and have even tried them on for myself more than a few times – just to see if I still like them. And here’s the thing: I really do. In fact, I think they’re magic.

But truth be told, they are not really me. Not my typical choice of shoe. The gold threw my husband off. And, he has reiterated the uncomfortable thing. But hey, don’t all girls know sometimes we forgo comfort for beauty or sexy or just plain tired of the ordinary. And boy, am I tired of the ordinary.

Or just tired of sad being part of my ordinary. I’ve cried for the last two days about our Golden Retriever Holly. She had a cancerous tumor removed from her neck six weeks ago and the tumor is back – bigger than before. It affects her ability to eat and breathe. I cannot bear to feel the growing hard mass. I stay as far away from it as possible as I pet her - which is all the time. Trying to fit in a pat or caress for every time I pushed her away in the last nine years. I can’t push her away now. Not even when I need to. I know she knows how much I love her. That she holds no grudges or regrets. Still, I want her to know just how special she is to us. So special, she’s what brought Jeff and I together nine years ago on McCabe Golf Course.

And that’s the really hard thing about all this – she’s the reason Jeff and I came together. She is as much a part of us as we are a part of one another. She helps define us. And I can’t imagine us without her. She is a member of our family and I crumble when I think she may not be with us much longer. There to greet us when we come home in the afternoon, snapping her teeth playfully so we’ll feed her dinner. Wagging her tail hard against the wood floor each morning when we come out to the front room and tell her good morning. Ecstatic to go on a walk as she carries part of her leash in her mouth around the entire block.

I try to do my best to stay in the moment with all this but sometimes distraction is necessary just to get through the day. And I think that’s where the shoes come in. New, sexy, gold high-heeled shoes let me dream about a night in the not-so-distant future where I get to play dress-up, go out with my husband, and have fun. We’ll have drinks, enjoy our friends, dance (as best I can in those high heels!), and forgot about our house, kids, cats, and dog if only for a night. By night’s end, I’ll be tired and happy and ready to kick those heels off. I’ll be ready to return home – to hopefully greet Holly at the door and kiss my sleeping kids goodnight.

I believe in miracles. I believe in fairy tales. I believe in happy endings. Let me just grab my new shoes and tap those high heels three times . . . I told you they were magic. And, I believe.