In the past, cheap shoes were always the way I went. I could get shoes more often and they’d be super trendy and uncomfortable. Now that I”m in my 30′s I don’t care about being super trendy and want comfortable shoes I can run after a child in. I’m all into investments these days and the words “boot sale” give my heart a thrill I never knew could exist for a foot covering.

and what do you know but the one time I was at the mall this year they were having a blowout boot sale in my favorite store? I walked in a trance into the store. Touching, sighing and ignoring my children running around screeching and smearing up full length mirrors. I found the pair. A pair of black, flat soled rider boots with a thick zipper and buckles galore.  and they had my size…

I took a deep breath as I slowly zipped up the boot, the scent of expensive leather filling my nostrils, the 75% off tag dangling like a crystal, shining everywhere in the sunlight… images of outfits worn, places walked together…

WHA…??

the zipper had stopped. I checked to see if it was stuck… no… what could be going on? My foot fit… Then it dawned on me…

It was me. and my MASSIVE FREAKING CALVES.

I was such in a cowboy boot phase I had forgot the reason I turned to them in the first place. Their generous calve allowance.

The helpful sales girl came over, “and how do they fit?” she asked apparently NOT looking at my half-zipped up boot as I frantically tried to stuff more of my calve into the boot to squeeze together the zipper...

I decided to come clean after 10 more minutes of embarrassing positions trying to force the zipper up and shrieked to her, “MY CALVES ARE TOO BIG”.

She was very uncomfortable. In fact, her deep embarrassment started to affect me and I was suddenly embarrassed too, wondering if I should have simply said, “No, they don’t seem to be fitting,” and left out the I’m having a nervous breakdown over these boots bit. To cover up the awkward seconds ticking by she ran over to the ugliest boots in the store and showed them to me.

“These boots are great for women with… larger calves,” she trailed off.  I just stared at her.

“Oh, thanks so much, you are oh-so-helpful but those really aren’t the stye that I was looking for, thank you though!” is what I should have said. Instead I blurted out, “Yeeeeeeeeeeeah. Those are kind of ugly.”

More silence.

*Luckily* one of my children ran by shrieking and distracted everyone so I was able to get my old boots back on and scamper out of the store with what was left of my dignity and pride.

If only they made spanx for calves… and I’ll be sticking to the cowboy boots.

Oh, and this is the face. Sweet little mischief maker…

We were late to church, and sat on the back row. As I sunk into a without kids relaxation my eyes started to wander around… and then I saw him.

He was probably a few years older than I was and had dark hair that was slightly thinning in the back. He wore a dark colored shirt, elastic-waisted jeans and velcro white shoes which his constantly moving feet kept slipping out of. In fact, that was what first drew my attention, his constant head and feet movement were in stark contrast to the stillness in the room. He was smiling without restraint and kept touching a woman’s arm next to him I could only assume was his mother from her unending patience and kindness to him.

He loved the praise music and extended his arms in a pure form of expression.

He noticed a little baby and nearly fell out of his chair in excitement, trying to get his mother to look too. She patted his hand and tried to calm him down.

He laughed loudly and with his whole body when the pastor told a joke.

The little baby smiled at him the whole time, sensing something was different about him.

There was a purity, a sweet child-likeness in the man and yet it was all wrong. The subconscious discomfort of people near by was nearly a cloud. The quick, furtive glances, the attempt to be non-nonchalant and politically correct.  I felt it too, a creeping in feeling that I wanted to archly dismiss because I shouldn’t feel that way.

This isn’t about what is right or wrong, it just IS.

Suddenly, he turned and looked right at me. Then I wondered if he could even see me, his eyes were crossed and unfocused behind his thick glasses, but he was smiling hugely and waved at me.  I waved back and his face crinkled into an even bigger smile and he nearly came out of his chair in excitement as he turned to tell his mom all about it. I didn’t look at Ben. I couldn’t.

I couldn’t think about anything because my mind was so full of thoughts and instead focused on methodically taking notes over the thickness in my throat.

I’m not special or great, I can only live in the moment. Today is manageable.

*****

I was going to close with that originally- but I wanted to add that people all the time look at me and say, “I just couldn’t handle it if I had a special needs child” and they honestly don’t get that I can’t either. I feel the future embarrassment and feel full of shame at that truth. I can handle today, Bear is sweet and draws in people to community with his bright smile and love. It’s when that isn’t ok- when he starts to creep people out because of his age and size. When his pure spirit stands in stark contrast to the world’s ugliness and our thick defensive coats we wear to shield ourselves.

I can’t stand, I can’t stand it.

Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My only calm is You Save me
Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My only thought is You Save me
Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My happiness is You Save me
Oh how lovely this place To be with You To be with You
Oh the brightness of Your face Here with You Here with You
Oh my only calm is You Oh my only thought is You Oh my happiness is You Oh my happiness is You
To be with You To be with You Save me