Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Lucky Boots

I have lucky cowboy boots.

I guess I never thought I would be one of those people, but there you go, here I am, the owner of a pair of lucky boots.

I bought them in May 2011, to wear to my Dad's memorial. They reminded me of him. Black leather, black stitching, almost knee high. As I remember it, Dad's black pair were just like these.

I slipped them on and they fit like a glove. These were the boots meant for me and they came home with me, came to Wisconsin with me, slipped into them with a summery dress on the sultry June afternoon of my Dad's memorial celebration.

My dad passed on May 4, 2011, a time that is always filled with hustle and bustle for me. Most notably, the weekend of May 4, 2013—which coincided with Listen To Your Mother. I once again slipped into my boots on a too-hot-for-boots day and took to the stage to share my story. These boots were my armor, keeping me safe. I loved sharing my story but standing on stage felt a little too exposed. I could imagine my Dad was there, as he was when he was strong and opinionated and protective—all of his best qualities, laser-focused and positive—and I fed off that strength.

When I need a little extra support, I grab my boots. They've served me well over these years, and now have been come an inextricable part of Listen To Your Mother as well. I donned them again last year, when my husband took the stage, and they're with me today as I head up to talk about Listen To Your Mother on the local news.

Just me, my lucky boots, my Dad's spirit and the support and well wishes of hundreds of voices who've come before me, encouraging people to share their stories and be a little daring.

1 comment:

  1. We were holding the particular boot styles designed for myself and so they emerged residence with me at night, stumbled on Wisconsin with me at night, tucked directly into these using a summery outfit around the hot Summer mid-day regarding my own Dad's memorial service party.

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