April 10 2025: Core memories - The shoes

I remember when I was little I got obsessed over a pair of  shoes. I don't remember all the details, but they were white ankle sneakers, leather like, with a very colourful robot on the sides. Side note: I love colours and I love robots to this day. Lets just say I have watched all the Transformers movies. My favourite character is bumble bee 😀

Well… we were very very very very poor. My mom was a single mom, with a teenager (my brother, who ate a lot!) and a super hyperactive other child (me, the shoe destroyer).

To paint a picture (now, from an objective distance, because I didn't perceive any of this as I was growing up), we had no TV for a long time (for which I was happy as I used it as an excuse to go and watch TV in my crush's house). We didn't have a lot of material stuff. The time was known in my country as “The Special Period,” which is the equivalent to “The Great Depression” in the US, for example. Historically speaking, it's when the Soviet Union communism fell down and their support to Cuba stopped, and all of a sudden my country entered the biggest economic depression. People didn't have much to eat, to wear, to brush their teeth… you get the idea. Again, not that I would notice, but I'm sure now that my mom went without food a few times for me and my brother.

But for me… these material things were not noticeable for a loooong time. The lack of them or the presence of them. I had paper and pencil to draw (which I loved). I had books to read, which was a passion my mom, me, and my dad shared. But above all else, I had the streets, my imagination, and a lot of friends who followed me in all my games and ideas. More than anything, I loved being outside. I loved to run, get dirty, and play in the very, very dusty and dirty streets of my neighborhood. I only had two speeds, standing or running. My mom imposed a stop sign in the kitchen, which is on the way to the door, where I had to stop and finish my sentence to say where I was going. Because normally I would pass by running and screaming something that she never got to hear, because I was already by the stairs.

My favorite games were all about climbing trees, walls, fences, or anything that involved running, competing at something. I could be pretending we were in the Olympics (which I loved watching), and gather my friends and make teams and set up the whole thing, or craft any mischievous plans to prank passersby from a tree. So it's fair to say, I spent most of my time outside my house. Going there for the essentials, eating and sleeping, and homework and being punished. I was very free-spirited, daydreaming as I walked was my regular mode. In fact, I would forget from point A to point B where I was going and why (a very frustrating feature to my parents and friends and teachers and anybody who met me, for a long time).

Another background detail is because of how active and careless (carefree I prefer) I was, I could go through anywhere from 4 to 8 pairs of shoes in a year, which is something almost unheard of from other children in this very poor economy. My shoes would soon be destroyed beyond any repair.

All this backstory is very necessary to understand the relevance of the shoes' story in my life as a core memory.

At some point, I got fixated on this one material thing. These shoes. I don't remember where I saw them. Probably a shop. I was in primary school. You can picture me like the emoji with a big smile and the little stars in the eyes when I look at them. They became so important to me. I was obsessed, like love at first sight. But these shoes were SOOO EXPENSIVE. I DON'T REMEMBER THE PRICE, AND let me tell you, I don't even want to remember, because I'm sure it will hurt my heart now. But I'm pretty sure it was about 3 to 4 of my mom's salary. Yeah, I know… for you to understand that (a person that is not from Cuba, that's a whole other story).

Anyhow, again coming back to the single mom with very, very practical needs, like feeding everybody. But my mom was beyond practical. She was like a wizard from a magic movie. She was someone who nurtured my imagination in all the ways I showed I wanted to be nurtured. Some nurturing were her own choices though, like those piano lessons (frowning emoji here).

I don't remember why I was so obsessed with these shoes, but my mom saw my little heart fixated on them and well… she made it happen!!! How??? To this day I have no idea, but that's my mom. That in itself is a core memory of who she is for me. The person who made me feel everything was possible. The person who saw the same fairies I saw. She was there to count them together… The imaginary fairies and stars in the many, many blackout nights in Cuba. Another of our bonding times, star gazing.

So when I finally had the shoes on my feet, my mom told me: please don't run, don't kick the rocks, don't drag your feet, don't climb anything, walk straight. All reasonable concerns, the shoes being so expensive and me being the shoe breaker I was. But when I heard all these requirements, my face became very sad (It felt like they belonged to a museum) and I said… I don't want to wear them, mom. Take them. There was no point for me not to be able to do all that. That's not me.

My mom understood this, smiled and said… oh what the hell!! Just have fun! And that right there became my core memory, and beyond that became a life guiding principle, a life perspective?

It was never about making them last as long as possible in a glass box. When she allowed me to just be me. Wearing them to my heart's content, not on special occasions that might or might not come, she conveyed the message that it was not about the possession, but the experience. Experiencing things freely. The pretty shoes were only important if they were with me in my adventures of my day to day without concern of when they would be broken. They will last what they will last and that's all there is to it.

It was also like a wish fulfilled, considering our circumstances, the shoes did seem out of reach. She recognized my dreams as something important, and made it happen beyond what's considered practical, and reasonable and essential and possible. She allowed me to dream beyond the reality we existed in. Because of that and many more experiences like that I adopted the belief that anything is possible, moving forward in my life.

Many things or beliefs come to my mind as the result of memories like that one. It seeped into me as an attitude to life. Live in the moment? Be you? Experiences are what matter? Not to be in concert with the material stuff? Dreams do come true…

This adult person showed me there is more to life than the practical things. There is magic, and possibility. We can have anything. That's the message. We are not constrained by our circumstances. I can dream beyond what I have and where I stand now and what I see. She made me believe that anything is possible and furthermore she supported and encouraged dreaming, and imagining, and growth. When I think about her… If anyone has seen the movie “Life is Beautiful,” this is the closest representation. She made my childhood feel magical.

My mom was the definition of magic.