Big Pumps to Fill

By Robin Caldwell

Wrapped in tissue and tucked away in a box is a pair of my late grandmother Irene’s pumps. This particular pair of pumps is hand-stitched and timeless in style. They also cost a pretty penny; one of the few indulgences Irene allowed herself. I’d worn them by now but I can’t; they were purchased for her feet. She wore a size 8 ½ narrow and I wear a 7-wide shoe. Her feet were delicate and slender while mine look like Fred Flintstone’s.

Some of my fondest, most cherished memories of my grandmother involve shoes.

There is the story of the bigoted salesclerk who insulted Irene in a shoe store and in retaliation my grandfather purchased an extremely expensive pair of pumps to please his wife and protect her honor.

Then there was the time Irene snatched off one of her pumps to chase away a man who purposely spat on my patent leather Mary Janes. He thought she was white and amused by his antics until she pointed that stiletto in his face.

One of my favorite stories involves Irene taking off both shoes to run barefoot in the middle of the street to teach her son, Alan, a lesson in humility. My grandmother not only won the race but taught Alan if he was going to boast he needed to back it up.

I loved Irene. Still do. But she had some big pumps to fill.

For years, I didn’t try to fill those pumps because I didn’t see the value. Chalk it up to youthful ignorance and defiance but I wanted to be my own woman. Hard knocks, however, had this wonderful way of extracting bits and pieces of Irene out of me and before I knew it I could see much of her character interwoven in my own. Over the years, I’ve become more like her than not and it is okay.

My grandmother was as close to saintly as a woman could be, in my mind. God knows I tried to be like her but often fell short.

However, one day I woke up and realized that I couldn’t fill Irene’s pumps and that my focus should be on following the sandals of my Jesus. He is the one I am to aspire to become more like, not Irene. Besides there was no way I could fit these feet into Irene’s shoes.