Death and Two Pairs of Shoes

When I was eight years old, I wore an old pair of white sneakers. They had wholes on the side and dirt marks all over. However old they looked to the world, they were my favorite pair of shoes.

After several months of wearing them, my grandfather looked at them and offered to buy me a new pair of shoes. I don't know why this memory stayed with me, but it did. I remember his shocked face after examinig my shoes and my shameful face from his judgement. "La nina necista un nuevo par de zapatos," he told my parents. He offered to buy me pair, but my mother insisted that she would pay for them.

Years passed and my grandfather could no longer afford to buy himself shoes. A few months ago he came to the states from our country and went shopping with us. After everyone made a plan to tackle a different part of the mall, I decided to stay with my grandpa.

As we walked through the store, hand in hand, he made hints of his "feet hurting" due to his old shoes. I smiled and offered to buy him a pair of shoes. He looked like he won the jackpot, after I told him he can pick any sneaker in the store. He tried several on and walked around the store with so much joy. It was than at that moment, that I realized my grandfather was the eight year old me. The only exception, I bought him two pairs of shoes.

Today, my dad called me that grandpa passed away. I am not filled with grief, but smile that I got a chance to make his feet comfortable for his last few months.