The Lady in the Red Clogs

This is something I wrote and gave to my step mom for Christmas. (along with a pair of wooden clogs)

The Lady in the Red Clogs

“Clip- Clop, Clip-Clop”, was the sound the hard wood would make against the floor. I would glance down and look at those hot tamale colored clogs and smile. She loved those shoes. They were so flamboyant and unique and had real wooden soles. I would pick on her for wearing them, probably because that’s what Deddy (that’s what we call him) did. He had to pick on everyone for something, and bright red wooden clogs seemed the perfect target.
“She” was Leslie. AKA- Mother Les. We called her this from time to time, but she didn’t like it, because she thought it made her sound like a nun. She was my step mom and my good friend. Our conversations would begin with bubble gum, lead up to my plans of joining the circus and singing on Broadway, and likely end discussing some extremely cool place we both wanted to visit someday.
Mother Les didn’t just pretend to be interested in our talks. She really was, and all kids could tell. Kids can always see through the people who attempt to get on their level but really could care less. Mother Les was like a modern Mary Poppins who gleefully jumped right into our imaginative play.
I begrudgingly brought friends from Arkansas on visits to Deddy and Leslie’s house in Louisiana. It was inevitable. They would fall under her spell. She was no doubt a listening ear and a lively comedian for every troubled, neglected, and even perfectly happy kid we brought with us. They would rather spend the day visiting with her than playing and exploring with me. Besides that, I would always end up feeling jealous of her sharing her usually undivided attention towards me with another kid, even if they were my friends.
Our summers and visits were filled with all sorts of things, much of which was orchestrated by Mother Les. While the “Trouble” marathons and poker tournaments (with cheerios of course) were likely Deddy’s idea, Leslie would give us moon walking lessons and teach us how to crackle our bubble gum. She also instructed us in other highly useful tasks, like how to pick up clothes and other items with our toes.
Leslie loved to take us swimming at the closest public pool we knew of, which was 45 minutes away. She taught us lots of cool tricks there, like how to do hand-stands and flips under the water with a friend. I often wondered what the other adults at the pool thought of the woman who pretended to be a mermaid right along with us. Mother Les didn’t care. There would always be a group of kids who would join us as we made a train in the water or made a mini whirl-pool. A woman that down to earth…that care free, always draws a crowd of anxious youngsters.
Hospitality shined through in her cheery dimpled cheeks. It is no wonder that Deddy and Leslie‘s house, our summer home, was always bustling with life. There would be kids and adults in and out all day and even into the night. We spent many a night discussing who knows what profound thing with Deddy, while Leslie, well… struggled to stay awake. Deddy was a night owl by nature. Leslie tried to hang, to no avail.
Summer in Louisiana meant no bedtime. Everyone went to bed when they were tired, and Leslie fell asleep in the chair while we watched a movie or talked. I would usually make a trade with Mother Les at movie time. If she would scratch my back, then I would tickle her feet. She really liked having her feet tickled, and I was amazed that she could stand it at all. She would only explain how her Daddy got all of her tickles out when she was little.
Now that I am grown, my thoughts often wonder back to the sacrifices Leslie made for us. I will never forget how she treated us like we were her real children, showing no partiality between us and our little brother and sister. She made us feel like so much more than just kids. We were special, and our opinions counted. There was no bitterness in Mother Les’ eyes. She didn’t feel threatened by two kids from a previous marriage demanding their father’s time. She embraced us with open arms. I am convinced that not another woman on the earth could handle Deddy’s eccentric ways. When they wed she bid farewell to her tennis playing, convertible driving self, and became what was important…what we needed. Even my Mama was put at ease knowing she had such a terrific woman tending to her children.
I recently got a pair of bright red wooden clogs, no doubt because of the memory I have of hers (Now I don‘t mind admitting how cute they are) . The wonderful woman in the wooden clogs is someone I strive to be like. I want to connect with my children the way she connected with me.
Leslie was so much more than a step-mom to me. She was a true Godsend to two kids recovering from a bad divorce. She arrived at just the right time, just like in a fairy tale, and distracted us from the turmoil we were trying to forget. I am not sure if it was a conscious act or just the person she was. Nonetheless, it was a huge aid in our healing.
Our lives are much busier now. I have three children of my own. She is an exuberant high school English teacher who puts her all into..you guessed it- kids. No matter how busy our lives become, there is one thing that I will never leave behind or allow myself to forget;--Leslie, the woman who helped lead us away from our temporary heart-ache and confusion, and back into being what we needed to be…kids.