Bronze shoes

Bronze shoes

Bronze shoes

9 months ago

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Editor's Note: I just finished watching the latest episode of This Is Us and it made me think of two people I loved dearly who passed on. So this is a Throw Back Wednesday post.

Last week we hosted a Breast cancer workshop at my job and it made me think of my mother; a two-year survivor. Thinking of my mother made me think of her late best friend.
I am no stranger to death but few have left heart prints like my mother’s best friend and my childhood babysitter.
I think I was in college when my babysitter died. She was sick, it was not a surprise but the blow of pain in my chest caught me off guard. By the time I met her, I had pretty much decided I was old enough to take care of myself; she was mostly around for my younger siblings. Eventually, I regarded her as the grandmother I never had.
She was annoying; her voice got screechy when she yelled, she nagged constantly, and made fun of how I played the cello. She taught us bible verses, songs, and how to count fast in French. She was weird; she ate funny stuff and I never really knew much of her life before us. She would cackle, throwing her head back revealing a gap-toothed smile. And she had the longest shock of white hair that she let us play in for hours. I loved her; she was a comforting presence in my young life. It was very difficult to get through her funeral, I felt like I lost a very familiar part of myself.
A few years later, my mother’s best friend passed away after battling breast cancer. She was funny; most of my memories are of me giggling at something she said. I lived for the evenings my mother would gather up rice, sauce pois, and legume to take over to her house. Of course, we would stay a bit, regaled by her latest tales, and I would go find her daughters who later became dear friends. One day she gave me a pair of bronze Steve Madden flats that I loved immediately and wore although they were a bit snug.
After her death, I continued to wear those too tight shoes until my toes cried out in protest. I kept them in my closet, lovingly stored with my other beauties. They were my last memory of her and I refused to give them up. Until the day, I realized she was closer than I thought when I hung out with her daughters and their kids. Her spirit was not gone but recycled in the ones she loved.
What are your favorite memories of some of the special people in your life?

Brenda Fadeyibi
Brenda Fadeyibi
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