Remembering Wrong

Yvette found the original reflection for "To The Lady in The Purple Skirt at the Grocery Store:" a vignette in her debut Chapbook Between Sunsets.

I hadn’t realized that my experience with the lady in the purple skirt was in August of 2010. I hadn’t remembered where in the grocery store I was when I saw her, nor what her shoes actually looked like. I am so glad I captured the instant soon after it initially happened, and that I found the original piece after the Between Sunsets galleys were complete.

The vignette in my chapbook reveals the emotional truth of the moment that I had tucked away in my heart, and how my mind how toyed with the instance

Please enjoy an excerpt of the original piece :

       Walking down the aisle, looking for the packaged sandwich meat, a woman at least 70 years old was bent over her grocery basket trying to get her stockinged foot into her fabric blue sandals. I saw my grandmother out by herself getting help from a stranger.  I wanted to run away. I walked gingerly toward her and just above a whisper, hoping she would say no, or that her son was coming, “do you need any help?”

      “Well, I can’t get my shoe back on,” she answered.

      Unsure of how to help the woman, her feet and her shoes, I said what can I do.  She explained that she usually needs some tissue to get the shoes back on.  I had my “Staples easy button” and was so happy that that was all I needed to do: fetch some tissue. 

        I returned triumphantly with the tissue and handed it to her.  She struggled with her purse, holding onto the grocery cart, her keys on a lanyard, the tissue, her frail body, the stockings and those awful blue sandals.  I watched.  Then, I took the bag and keys and steadied the cart and watched.  She made no headway.

     Then I took one shoe and asked her what to do with the tissue.  She showed me how to fold it and insert it properly into the shoe.  I put the shoe on the floor and watched as she futilely tried to get the shoe on her foot. 

     I swallowed my pride and disdain for feet and kneeled on the floor and quickly shoved this woman’s foot into those shoes, pulling the elastic band across the back of her heel.

     I then got the other shoe and hit repeat in my mind.

     She was grateful.  

Thank you for sharing with me pictures of your copy of Between Sunsets.

You can purchase your copy through the Finishing Line Press website or Amazon.