Daddy’s Shoeshine Box

“So what should we do with this?” Mom asked me as she held up a light-colored wooden box she removed from a closet as we packed things to move her to her new home.

I had totally forgotten about this treasure. It was Daddy’s shoeshine box.

“I would love to have it,” I told her.

A flood of memories came back as I opened the old box and looked inside. All of Daddy’s things are still in there. There are several cans of polish, brushes and polishing clothes that are worn from years of shining shoes.

As I opened a can of the polish, the smell made me suddenly remember every Sunday morning when I was young. We didn’t dare go to church with unpolished shoes. Daddy shined his shoes as if he was still in the Army about to be inspected by his superior. They always looked brand new when he was finished.

When I was younger, he would shine mine to match his. I can remember how hard it was to hold my foot on the footrest on top of the box as he shined the tops of my shoes with the polish cloth.

He had polish for every color shoe. Black, brown and cordovan. I always thought cordovan sounded like a much more interesting color so I used it on every shoe. “Why use ordinary black or brown when you had a color called cordovan? I thought.

Now that I own this treasure, it will be displayed in the corner of my guest bedroom. I might never use it, but I can bet I’ll open it occasionally and take a look inside.

It makes me feel close to Daddy.

From the mind of me.