Re-soled for Another Nine

They were beautiful and had the ability to transport even the smallest, quietest girl into a force to be reckoned with. The smell of leather intoxicated my senses and the red lizard skin made my heart race. I slipped them out of the box and onto my feet. Perfection. I looked at my parents across the wrapping papered room as my Mom snapped pictures and my Dad shared a smile of contentment with me...

Over the last twenty years I have conjured up stories and embellished memories to reflect how I felt at that moment in time. It's hard to realize you are not the most important person in some one's life; especially when that someone is a parent. I think my Dad loves me but his decisions have affected many aspects of my life, whether I like it or can admit it. I think people look at my cowboy boots as a fashion statement but the truth is they are my safety blanket. They are also one of the only bonds I share with my Dad and in many ways keeps me connected to him. Sometimes when the pain gets to be too much, I think back to the simple memories when the perfect pair of cowboy boots could solve all of life's problems and when the miles walked weren't so treacherous. I remember a time when I didn't have to limit a phone call to fifteen minutes and when the pain didn't invade my body and threaten to defeat my persistence. My Wednesday nights were spent in a restaurant discussing every detail of life with a man I miss more and more each day. I'm so thankful for the memories I have with my Dad but I go back and forth between anger, sadness and acceptance.

Most of my life I have been reaching out to him and begging for his attention and affection. From trying to make all A's in school to trying to run a six minute mile, I did everything I could to gain acceptance from him. My favorite memories really are when we would pick out a new pair of cowboy boots and he would make me promise to have them re-soled when they were worn down. I always did this and then he would reward me with a brand new pair. Nothing could ruin a day like that and I was blessed to have four of them.

Yet, I am angry. I go through phases where I don't want to talk to him and I want to be selfish and scream at him for what he did to Laura and I. After I stay in that phase for a while I am grief-stricken and just want him to hold me and tell me he's sorry and it will be okay. Then I come full circle and take everything and apply it to my life. I am stronger because of what I have been through but it's exhausting and I'm tired of going in circles. I thought once I got to the point of acceptance that would be the end of it. Instead, I find myself fighting the same battle and going over the same issues I thought were resolved. I know I will get through the next nine years as I have the past five. It takes more than abandonment for a girl to give up on her Dad and I still think that one day he will change. I can do this, even if I have to keep going through the emotions. Someday I will arrive at acceptance and stay there. I guess there are still some things I have to learn.

I could write endless sob stories about my relationship with my Dad but that is not the issue. I am trying to be a woman I can admire and to show people there are no excuses. Sometimes life is not fair but it's what we do in those moments that build and strengthen our character. I choose to hang on to the good memories and am thankful I am able to re-live them in my mind.

...It was obvious what the box with the bow held. I could almost smell the new leather and the anticipation was killing me. Clint watched anxiously as I pulled the old ones off and slipped my new pair on. Perfection. The leather was of the finest quality and I knew they would weather many storms. I was so proud of those boots because Clint picked them out. I showed them to my Dad and a few weeks later he was gone. I was left standing in a pair of boots that were still new and painful to walk in. I walked anyway - right into Clint's waiting arms. He is my hero. How lucky am I?