Since reaching the maturity of (gasp) middle age, I’ve become a worst case scenario person. I imagine every possible bump in the road and those outcomes I can’t control, I worry about. If there is a life lesson MS is trying to teach me, it is the need to deal with uncertainty with grace. Everybody’s future is up in the air; for those with MS, it’s just a little more iffy.
My obsessive need to prepare was highlighted by a footwear dilemma. I had a pair of maroon shoes I’d owned practically forever. They were very small for my feet, yet I’d saved them for years, thinking that should the need arise for me to wear maroon dress shoes, these would do in a pinch (literally.) Finally, desperate for more closet space, I threw caution to the wind and threw them in the thrift shop donations box. Not surprisingly, I was managing to get by without these pumps pretty well.
The first Monday of the month is Loco Lunes (Crazy Monday) at the local thrift shop. All clothing, shoes, and pocketbooks are 75% off. Though you have to sift through a lot of junk, you can find some great stuff at truly rock bottom prices. If I’ve got the time, I never miss it.
So that’s where I was after the aforementioned donation. And there, among a jumble of footwear, was a marvelous maroon shoe, just my size and even comfortable. I was tempted, but as I couldn’t see the mate anywhere I didn’t immediately grab it. I worked my way around the shoe department and spotted…the matching maroon shoe. At this point, I picked it up and headed back to get the first one. That’s when I saw another lady had it in her basket and was poking around for the mate, which I discretely covered in my basket. I decided to lay low for a bit, and went to look at skirts. Upon returning to footwear, I found the now discarded mate, slipped it in my basket, paid a buck for the pair, and wore them to church on Sunday.
Alas, a lesson wrapped in a moral quandary. One door is closed, another is opened. One pair of shoes gone, another falls in my lap. But this other lady also wanting the same pair. Should I have offered the mate to her? Did she need them more than I? Aak! I’ll never know. I’m enjoying owning my new shoes (stored in my once again overcrowded closet), but feel a twinge of guilt as I imagine her forced to wear her old navy blue ones.