An Occasion | Alyssa Sanders
I am a complete and total packrat, my bedroom screams this fact from every crevice. This past Saturday I visited home and my mother immediately set Austin (my twelve year-old brother) and I on the unruly task of de-cluttering my chaos. I have an unbelievable amount of clothes, and going through my two full-to-capacity dressers and my large walk-in closet seemed to be the most important to dejunk.
Though I struggled throwing out many articles, we made massive progress. We were finally nearing the finish of this draining chore, when Austin chucked a pair of old blue sneakers into the D.I. box. I immediately retrieved them and asked Austin what in the world he thought he was doing. He replied saying,"Why would you want ugly, scarred shoes Alyssa?" At that moment I didn't realize the magnitude of the question Austin had just asked, so I jumped into the hurried explanation of "because I like them." Upon reflection I understand just why my pair of dirty, used sketchers mean so much to me.
Those sneakers have had a long enduring history with me. I remember when I purchased them in seventh grade. I liked them because they looked like bowling shoes, and everybody knows that bowling shoes are cool. They are one of those guilty pleasures that everyone criticizes, but secretly they know they want to wear them out of the alley. So, with that mentality I have worn them proudly for the past seven years, and boy have they seen a lot. They have walked through the Sydney Opera House, hiked the Uintah mountains, heard numorous amazing rock concerts, endured a family crisis, and even witnessed my first pathetic attempt at a kiss. These shoes though squeaky and tight when new, have molded to me and are now my most cherished and comfortable pair.
"Ugly and scarred" as my brother so elequently pointed out, is the most beautiful state of all. When you consider your life, the people whom you love the most, the people whom you are truly comfortable around are indeed "ugly and scarred". You have seen them in their glory days, right through to their lowliest hours. The scars, some intiresting, some sad, and some ugly that you have endured together are priceless.
Though Austin can't appreciate their value, my old sneakers mean the world. They are my transport trigger to a million memories. By me they could never be so curtly tossed into the D.I. bin. They are beautifully ugly, and delicately scarred into my heart.
Though I struggled throwing out many articles, we made massive progress. We were finally nearing the finish of this draining chore, when Austin chucked a pair of old blue sneakers into the D.I. box. I immediately retrieved them and asked Austin what in the world he thought he was doing. He replied saying,"Why would you want ugly, scarred shoes Alyssa?" At that moment I didn't realize the magnitude of the question Austin had just asked, so I jumped into the hurried explanation of "because I like them." Upon reflection I understand just why my pair of dirty, used sketchers mean so much to me.
Those sneakers have had a long enduring history with me. I remember when I purchased them in seventh grade. I liked them because they looked like bowling shoes, and everybody knows that bowling shoes are cool. They are one of those guilty pleasures that everyone criticizes, but secretly they know they want to wear them out of the alley. So, with that mentality I have worn them proudly for the past seven years, and boy have they seen a lot. They have walked through the Sydney Opera House, hiked the Uintah mountains, heard numorous amazing rock concerts, endured a family crisis, and even witnessed my first pathetic attempt at a kiss. These shoes though squeaky and tight when new, have molded to me and are now my most cherished and comfortable pair.
"Ugly and scarred" as my brother so elequently pointed out, is the most beautiful state of all. When you consider your life, the people whom you love the most, the people whom you are truly comfortable around are indeed "ugly and scarred". You have seen them in their glory days, right through to their lowliest hours. The scars, some intiresting, some sad, and some ugly that you have endured together are priceless.
Though Austin can't appreciate their value, my old sneakers mean the world. They are my transport trigger to a million memories. By me they could never be so curtly tossed into the D.I. bin. They are beautifully ugly, and delicately scarred into my heart.
posted by Anonymous | 6:20 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home