Hello friends,

here is another piece from the past for you to enjoy while I continue to work on my next book and to promote my memoir, Straight Enough.

Lorinda Boyer

Bare Feet

For me the year 2011 arrived less a glorious shower of fireworks, more an exploding cannon ball through glass. My freshly uttered New Year’s resolutions still sat wet on my tongue. Sure, they’d included a desire for authentic life changing experiences, (imagine athletic endeavors, or a class at the local community college), but instead, I’d watched in horror as my twenty-year marriage crashed, burned and dissolved within a matter of weeks.

Now as I drive the boys here, there and everywhere in our borrowed minivan, I find my thoughts drifting towards an endless list of ‘what ifs’. What if the boys are emotionally wrecked for life because of this divorce? What if they turn to drugs or alcohol or violence? I wonder how it will affect their future choices in dating or marriage. I hope I’m prepared for the rebellion they will inevitably display as a result of this trauma. I’m on the lookout for defense and coping mechanisms. I’m watching what they do, listening to what they say and trying to remain alert. So far, nothing.

Then today my oldest son, C, steps out of the minivan at school in brand new jeans, brand new shirt and no shoes. At first, I laugh a little, think, “That silly boy forgot his shoes!” But then ever so slowly it sinks in that he has CHOSEN to not wear shoes. He has in fact decided to forgo his shoes in lieu of a more natural approach; bare feet.

I must admit that my first instinctive response is to yell, “What do you think you are doing? Put some shoes on! Do you want to catch pneumonia?” I am a mother after all. But then a little voice inside of me says to zip my lips for a minute and think. Maybe C is flexing some independence. Maybe what he needs is to feel in control of himself. His life has been spinning out of his control and maybe he’s grabbing at what little he can hold on to. Even if just his feet.

So, I smile, swallow another sip of coffee and wish my son a good day. I watch as he walks away from me towards his school and I think, “Well, at least I’ll save money on shoes and socks.“