Polaroid Moments

Today's prompt is courtesy of Kir.

One of my favorite parts of summer is THE SHOES. So for your prompt this week I'd like you to write about your character (or yourself) and a pair of his or her shoes.

Those shoes can be real or symbolic, they can hurt or be super comfy but I want to see what they say about the life of the person wearing them. It's a chance to use all those descriptive words I love reading.

 

We’ve been friends for about eight or so years now so we’ve got a good thing going so I’m fairly certain that she’s not going to get rid of me any time soon. 

I hope. 

I’ve been wanting to tell my story for a while but now it’s my turn I can’t make up my mind which one to tell you.  We hang out together so often and have shared so many significant moments it’s crazy. But you know, I think there have been as many moments that have seemed insignificant at the time but when we’ve both looked back they have become one of those Polaroid moments. One of those memories that shape who you were and who you will become like they take a life of their own and become fused into your soul. 

I remember the morning we woke up with our bags packed ready for an overseas adventure of a lifetime. The backpack was stuffed far too full, something she would learn not to do in the future so to bring home as many new enemies competition fellow country men colleagues as possible, and the flight for our month long trip away was due out later that afternoon. Plenty of time to relax, enjoy the airport atmosphere, book in early get the best seat. Easy.

Or so we thought. 

I was startled when the phone rang that morning. We left rather in a rush but I thought we were headed for the airport because she was excited for her holiday adventure to begin.

No, she was anxious. 

I could tell by the way she tapped her foot on the floor and that action in itself made me anxious too.  I was concerned when I saw the words ‘HOSPITAL’ flash by as we raced with all her bags down the longest corridor I had ever experienced.

Now I was worried. 

Until  I realised where we were and why we were there. 

Timing is everything.

When she booked her ticket months ago her closest friend was barely pregnant and was due well and truly clear of her trip. Well it seemed that this baby had other plans.  Today was the day.

Bags were thrown with abandon in the waiting room, and we sat down cross legged on the floor with a novel ready to settle in for a wait, only to end up in the birthing room with her friend, her husband and the Grandmother to be. Not what we thought we would be doing when we woke up this morning at all!

So we made ourselves as useful as we could that day. Walked down corridors for coffee and sandwiches, salt and vinegar chips and bottles of Coke. We told stories, chatted, laughed, were silent and thankful for the privilege of just being part of this miracle and watched the numbers and prayed and asked God for protection and safety.  

The clock kept ticking on and despite assurances that this baby was coming, knowing this child now it was no surprise that she was doing this at her own pace, reluctantly we knew it was time to leave or risk missing this flight.

So with a heavy heart we said goodbye, found our taxi and sped off.

Her tears dripped heavy on me for the duration of the journey.

We were in a ridiculously long line, waiting to check in. The tears had stopped but the anxious foot tapping had begun again. I knew that she was concerned about where she would sit for the flight and what was happening back at the hospital.

For the second time that day the phone startled me when it rang.

And for the second time that day a tear ran from her face, down her cheek and dropped on me.

Her closest friend had taken another step in life. Another leap of faith. Not just gone from a single carefree chickie to wife. But now she was also a Mummy. To a beautiful baby girl. 

A beautiful baby girl who bears the middle name ‘Victoria’. 

And as we got on that flight, she was a little teary but a little lighter in heart knowing that when we came home she would get to meet that little girl who whose middle name is her own. Polaroid memories fused into her sole.

x Aqua “Chucks” Converse

Well that was a fun week to come back to and write. Thanks for making it an easy week for me. I was going to write about the shoes that walked me through my Grandmother's funeral this time last week, but "we" are still trying to work through the words together. 

PS Of course I bought this Little Miss in this story a pair of pink baby Chucks of her own. They were so cute. Oh, and she's 7 1/2 now. Does this tell you how much I love these shoes?  ;)