Velcro Shoes

Tennis shoes with velcro make me sad. As I sit trying to figure out how I will put my feelings into words, I get teary-eyed. I don't know why but hope to discover it here. I see an adult wearing shoes with velcro and no laces and my heart sinks; it seems to fall back into my chest, as if it might make contact with my spinal column, the muscles and organs keeping it there giving out, giving up.

You know the kind of velcro shoes I'm talking about. They are all white, or all gray, or all tan, but most commonly, they are all black. They curl up a little at the toe and have two giant velcro buckles where the laces would normally be. The sides around the ankle are thick like a skate shoe, the swollen tongue protruding at an angle, as if constantly mocking the wearer. More often than not these shoes are well-worn--unevenly, one side of the heel noticeably thinner than the other.

Why would someone wear velcro shoes? Don't they know how sad they are? I wonder about these people. Did no one care about them enough to sit with them, and patiently teach them to manipulate the laces into a bow? Maybe someone did, maybe lots of someones did. Maybe those fine motor skills or remembering that many steps is beyond ability. If so, who cares for them now? Does no one love enough to help the potential velcro shoe wearer find some nice clogs or loafers; Vans always has very stylish slip-ons.

What are these people's lives like? Why would they wear velcro shoes? Maybe life is overwhelming. Maybe finding the motivation to get out of bed and get dressed in the morning is such a challenge that tying shoes with laces would simply be too much. Maybe velcro shoes are a survival technique. Maybe they think so little of themselves that they don't believe they deserve to have respectable shoes.

My heart hurts for these people. I want to anonymously leave them pairs of new shoes. But how would I find them? And how would I know what size and color to get? I want them to feel the difference a nice pair of shoes make. I want them to leave the house confident in themselves because someone loves them enough, life is good enough, they are good enough for good shoes.

For now, velcro shoes make me sad.