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CG ShopLeather Soles. Remembering my grandfather |
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| Written by CG Girl |
| Friday, 09 October 2009 21:04 |
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Written by My Uncle, Phil Jimenez. Read at My Grandpa’s Rosary. Tuesday, November 25, 2008. Leather Souls This has been a difficult week…my father has moved from his physical nature too the cherished memories of my heart. I will carry with me a legacy of dignity, style and grace during my own life’s journey. Though it will be difficult to no longer feel his warm embrace or listen to his kind words of comfort…he remains forever part of those he loved and cared for. I would like to share a story about my father…but before I do this maybe a little background is in order. My father had many loves…the first and most powerful love…is his love for my mother…Martha. A bond so strong, it has no boundaries. Next, is his love for family and God. With hard work and faith he gave his children opportunity for success by stressing education and a belief in God. He also loved dancing, music and travel. All of these things my father…loved. My dad also had many passions…he was passionate about good food, cold beer and being an avid reader, he enjoyed a good joke. No matter if it was Foghorn Leghorn, WC Fields or a newspaper comic strip, he was always searching for a laugh. More importantly he always wanted to share the laughter with others. This is where the story begins, though my father was never a slave to fashion. After all the warehouse in which he worked for 35 years, did not require a suit and tie. If he had a special engagement to attend he always wanted to look “sharp”. This was especially important when he went dancing with my mother. Part of looking “sharp” meant, dress slacks, a starched shirt with polished leather dress shoes. My father not only had a passion for high quality shoes, but some may describe it as an obsession. Though, I never heard him say it…I sensed he believed a man’s shoes are a window to his soul (no pun intended). I am not sure when this passion began, could it have started as a shoe shine boy outside the only hotel in downtown, El Paso as a young child, or during his service in the United States Navy during WWII, where he learned to buff his shoes to a high gloss shine or as a shoe salesmen in a department store in the early years as a new resident of California? When and where he developed his pension for shoes, I can only guess. What I do remember are my early school years, and when we would go shoe shopping. Though our clothes may have been hand me downs, we would always receive a new pair of shoes for the upcoming school year. He would press his thumb down on the front of the shoe to see how much room we had checking our toes for the proper fit…and also to see if we had room to grow into our shoes. He would have us pace back and forth with the new shoes on to make sure they were comfortable and not sliding off our feet. As children, we always wanted the latest snikers or styles (remember the earth shoe, wallabys, Vans). He would always stress the importance of a leather shoes and leather soles. If my mom took us shopping, and we purchased new shoes, his first question would be “but are they leather?” For my father, the true sign of a quality shoe is a leather sole. I remember not more than month ago, my dad began to feel better, he had battled a toe infection and his treatment and medication had taken its toll on him, both mentally and physically. He had now made a strong recovery. In between my visits to his home, we would talk on the telephone. As he got stronger, and no longer needed a walker or cane for him to get around, we would talk more frequently. During this time, he asked me to visit with him and that he wanted to tell me something important. At first, I thought I maybe in trouble, but I had done nothing wrong. After, a few more days past, he reminded me that he wanted to talk to me in person. This time it sounded urgent and extremely important and I told him, I would be over on the weekend. When I arrived that morning he was dressed as if he were headed some where. I asked him if he was hungry and we should go to breakfast. I had been craving a good bowl of Menudo. He said, he knew of a good place that served Menudo. However, he kept pacing from his room to the kitchen…back and forth; he finally called me into his room. He tells me “look here” as he pulls from his pocket a folded up piece of newspaper. This folded paper he must have saved for a couple of days because it looked well worn. As he unfolded the newspaper…I could now make out what it was…it was a Macy’s sales advertisement for men’s’ dress shoes. He then tells me, that he wants to buy me some dress shoes. I told him…I did not need any dress shoes. He refused to take no for answer. He said that this was something he wanted to do for me and there was to be no discussion. I figured he had taken the time to save this advertisement, I could not say no. After, breakfast, we headed to Macy’s. We were greeted by a salesperson, and my father asked where the “leather soled shoes” are located. She said that there were only a couple of pairs to choose from because many of the new styles had rubber or synthetic soles. I tried on a beautiful pair of Bostonian leather soled shoes…the same pair I am wearing today. These shoes won’t make me jump higher or run faster or even dance better. But they will be a constant reminder of his kindness and generosity. They say you never truly know someone unless you have walked in their shoes for a day. My father liked the style of shoe we shopped for so much; he went out and purchased the same shoe a week later. Today we match… Dad as your wife, children, grand children, relatives and friends sit here today, each with our own special story or memory we recognize your shoes are much to big to fill. However, I believe you have given us the inspiration and understanding to one day follow in your footsteps. My only wish is that I can fill these shoes with the same style and elegance as the man we all knew and loved. I love you, Dad…and you will be greatly missed by those you have touched. |
