Last pair of shoes

Bought our son's last pair of shoes this week.

Well, I'm sure he'll need more shoes, but he will buy his own from here on out. Just one more small symbol of moving into adulthood and independence. On his own.

The first pair of shoes is such a rite of passage. Mine are bronzed and sitting on a shelf with a picture of me wearing them.

I was not nearly so organized with our kids and have no idea what his first pair of shoes even looked like. However, I still remember the feeling. The bittersweetness of this baby already growing too fast. already walking, already moving toward independence.

Those first shoes protected his feet as he explored this great big world. They climbed up stairs one step at a time. They brought him across sand and grass and gravel and blacktop. They carried him through zoos and children's museums, to Grandma and Grandpa's house, around the block and back again.

As he grew, he loved to try on his daddy's shoes. clomping around like clown shoes, they were not his size, yet. He had some growing to do.

And grow he did.

Activities, home life, the endless outdoors. Through each place and each season, shoes appropriate to the setting. Sandals for summers, sneakers for play time, cleats for baseball, and dress shoes for more somber occasions.

And, now, his last pair of gym shoes will carry him through the last few weeks of college classes and then to the other side of the country.

Last shoes. And, as significantly as his first pair carried him into a new world to explore, these will carry him into something all new, all his.