My shoes

Lots of things are genetic: hair color, height, skin tone, even foot size. But the passion for shopping for shoes to cover those feet? Most certainly genetic, if my family is any indication. My genetic shoe-shopping marker can be traced to my maternal grandmother. She was passionate about shoe shopping to an addictive point. We lived in Los Angeles and she in San Francisco. She would visit often - many two or three day trips each year. When I remember her visits, I remember stopping at shoe stores all over town. She liked all kinds of shoes in any color you can imagine. I remember her with more dress shoes than anyone needed - unless you needed them in every color. Flat shoes, sandals, slip ons - you name it, she wore it. After Grandma fell some years ago, she had to start wearing a brace on one leg and inserts in her shoes. With those, many shoes in her beloved collection could no longer be worn. She not only lost wearing all those shoes, she lost the ability to shop for any kind of shoe she wanted. I'd never seen her be sad or wistful while shoe shopping before. Then, she got to the point of always having to wear one tennis shoe to have her brace fit right. Could there have been much worse for her? Getting dressed up super fancy on a cruise with one dress shoe and one tennis shoe? No. Way. Grandma died one year ago this month. May 26th, actually. After her funeral, my mom, sister and went shopping. What better way would there be to celebrate grandma? Oh, right - by buying a pair of shoes. So we did. All three of us have a pair of these shoes: Mine are blue, Mom's and Stacy's are pink. Watermelon, to be more specific. Grandma would be proud. See other Sunday Scribblings here.