Missing Shoes 👞

Awww – the stories of our lives – we all have them – sad, happy, good, bad – they belong to us and make us who we are, and must all be embraced, felt, and remembered!! I am, by nature, a daydreamer, and nostalgia often gets the better of me, and I simply indulge myself and tap into my “mind memories.”

My cousins and I come from a whole line of aunts and uncles from Italy who owned their own janitorial businesses here in America, and as children, we were often their “helpers.” Of course there were other numerous times when we were left to our own devices, and instructed to go “outside to play.” I am convinced that we were often not well supervised.

One story comes to mind a lot, and was recently retold at the yearly family picnic when I met up with my cousin, Jimmy! It took place when I was a mere five years old, freshly arrived from Italy, and Jimmy, who was all of six years old. He was left “in charge” of me to play outside the office my aunt, his mother, was cleaning. It is important to mention that this was in a strip mall and near a very busy street.

We were instructed to “play amongst ourselves,” so play we did, until a fire broke out across the street in an apartment building. Let’s face it, the bells, whistles, and sirens of a fire engine are not anything a child can resist, and resist we did not!

Without a further thought, Jimmy got up and ran toward what was now a very chaotic situation. Pausing, he looked both ways before crossing the street to investigate closer, but I, being so much younger, and maybe not as bright, did not use the same precaution, and was immediately hit by a very slow moving car! Down I went falling vertically under the car.

I do not have a clear memory as to how much it hurt. I was crying – screaming – yelling – in Italian, as I had not learned English – calling out for Jimmy, who by then had returned, and very fearfully peered down at me – splayed on the ground.

Now, one thing that was crystal clear was the absence of my new “Sunday shoes” from my feet. The impact had apparently caused them to fly off. My supplications to my cousin did not have anything to do with the actual act of being hit by the car and being on the ground in pain, but it had everything to do with the fact that my shoes were gone. Now, to clarify this concern, you must understand that my siblings and I were only bought two pairs of shoes a year – “Sunday” or our good shoes and tennis shoes, and those not visible to me were my good shoes. I was panicking as to where they were and, according to Jimmy, that I was going to get in a ”lot of trouble” if I lost them. This fear far outweighed the actual trauma.

Jimmy quickly found the shoes, brought them to me, and scurried off to get my aunt. His big fear was that he was going to be in big trouble because he was supposed to be watching me – an amazing and unrealistic expectation for a six year old!

Eventually I was taken to the hospital where my family met us. The story ends well: I was not seriously hurt – but more important – my shoes were back on my feet. So happy and relieved were my parents and siblings that I even got a pretty little red dress out of it. No one faulted my poor aunt who was already so devastated and horrified about what happened under her “watch.” I have to say though, that a lesson was learned, and to this day, I am a very vigilant street crosser! 😂

All my aunts and uncles – mostly immigrants from Italy – worked very hard, and we cousins were not always closely watched because of this. Nonetheless, we had such wonderful freedom, which only rarely led to an unfortunate incident as being run over by a car. Most of the time, it was exhilarating and there was always an adventure, and I feel grateful – even honored to be part of the “richness” of a simpler time, of growing up in a large extended Italian family, with loving aunts and uncles, and so many cousins with whom to play and create mischief! Don’t get me wrong; my immigrant experience was also fraught with stress and difficulty, but I embrace it all, as we all should and need to do as we look at our lives, because the “whole picture” makes us who we are!