“You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn’t depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family.”
“One of the few graces of getting old—and God knows there are few graces—is that if you’ve worked hard and kept your nose to the grindstone, something happens: The body gets old but the creative mechanism is refreshed, smoothed and oiled and honed. That is the grace. That is what’s happening to me.”
All of this sped through my mind in a split second as I shook out the hem of my blouse and swatted at my shorts, sending clouds of dust into the air. The remaining shoe, the one on my right foot, had seen better days. I wondered if I’d ever be able to brush the fine grey powder out of the suede. Peering into the hole from which I had recently emerged, I saw no trace of the missing shoe. In a quick second, my mind was made up: the Clarks had met their demise.