When you lose someone you love, you remember random details about them that like to pop up from time to time. Sometimes it’s their favorite song or meal.Their smile. Perfume or cologne.
WhenIthinkaboutMom, for whatever reason, I think about Keds.
She loved Keds. I’m not sure how many pairs she had, but it felt like a lot (it was probably only two or three).And she was fanatic about keeping them clean.
Unfortunately for her, we lived in the country next to a giant pond with a Lab named Lucy, who loved to play in said pond.
Now, we also loved the pond. It meant endless fishing for Dad and place to swim for my sister and I, though my mom would freak out anytime we ventured out in the paddle boat or row boat. It was about 50-feet deep and she was terrified if we went to the middle we would either sink the boat, or not be able to get back in. This is probably why she eventually put in an aboveground pool. (We didn’t complain either way.)
Anywho, I can’t remember how old I was. I do remember that I was at home, reading in the living room which had massive cathedral windows that looked out over the yard and pond. There was a storm coming in and somehow the row boat had come untied from the dock. Mom wanted to get it back in before the storm.
The boat had floated down towards the shallow end near the road and Mom had trekked down there in her white Keds and khaki shorts, with Lucy the Labrador happily skipping around her. Lucy loved the pondandthoughttheywere going down to play.
They were not. As Mom stood on the bank, trying to figure out how to reach the boat without falling in, Lucy would jump in and out of the pond and run up to Mom, tail wagging and tongue sticking out, almost as though she was saying, “Come in! The water is great!”
Mom finally found a plan of attack, inching down the bank and reaching out to try and grab the side of the boat. She always wore her white Keds, and was determined not to ruin them with the dirty pond water.
Lucy kept jumping up, trying to get Mom to play. Momwouldtrytobrushher off, I can only assume yelling at the happy-go-lucky dog to leave her alone.
Mom reached out and had finally grabbed ahold of the boat. Unfortunately, Lucy took that moment to land a jump squarely on my mom’s behind, effectively pushing her into the pond.
At this part of the pond, the water was not that deep. However, the bottom was soft, Oklahoma clay. So while the water itself may have only reached about knee or thigh-high on my mom, thanks to the mud, she was in the water up to herwaistwithagoodchunk of her legs stuck.
About this time, I heard yelling and looked out the window to see what was going on. I couldn’t see Mom by the pond, so I went out on the deck. All I could hear was splashing and my mom yelling. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but I’m sure it was a string of obscenities aimed at the dog.
Finally, I saw her head bob above the steep bank. Lucy bounded up halfway towards the house, then stopped to look back at Mombeforeboundingback towards her.
“Lucy!” Mom yelled. Finally, Mom made it up, solid mud from the waist down. I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh. Mom slowly made her way back up to the house, walking as though she had been riding horses all day.
“What happened?” I dared to ask as she neared the deck.
“Lucy pushed me in the pond while I was trying to get the row boat,” she said. “My Keds are ruined!”
“Did you get the boat?” I asked, cautiously.
“I was about to until I fell in.Your dad can get it later,” she said. “I need to try and save my shoes.”