Heather Gray

Flawed...but loved anyway.

header photo

Magical Socks and Life Out Loud

I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.

(Jesus speaking, John 10:10, MSG)

I have magical socks.  Every morning when I put them on, they remind me that life real life is meant to be lived in color.  Bold, bright, vibrant color.  Not in black, white or any of the drab dull shades in between.  My socks remind me that life, for better and for worse, should be lived out loud rather than in hushed whispers.  I am daily reminded that rocking the boat should be embraced and that walking tip-toe quiet should be shunned.  Yes, indeed.  I have supernaturally magical socks.
Frank Kovalchek from Anchorage, Alaska, USA
I learned many things from my daughter.  One of the things I learned is that life can be irrevocably changed at any time without any notice.  If life can change at any moment, if tragedy could be around any corner, how should we live life?  With timidity and fear?  Perish the thought!  We need to make the most of each day we have.  We need to do the things we always dreamed of doing, be the people we always wished we could be.  Yes you guessed it we need magical socks. 
Here’s the thing.  I wore plain white cotton socks for pretty much my entire life.  Then my daughter died.  One day, not too long after she died, I was putting my socks on, and I looked at them, really looked.  They were plain.  And white.  And cotton.  And unutterably drab.  I'd never noticed before how brutally boring my plain white cotton socks were.
As the grief of loss pulled at me, I realized how easy it would be to let myself crawl into a colorless world, dull and lifeless, where everyone wore plain white cotton socks.  It would be so easy to shut people out, to let no one near the hurt inside, to shield myself from life.  All in the name of self-preservation.  Or in the name of grief.  But what I'd actually be doing is giving up.

Tony Alter from Newport News, USA

As I stared at my plain white cotton socks, I thought about my daughter.  When she was alive, she was vibrantly alive.  She brought joy,happiness, and color everywhere she went.  She lived life out loud in the extreme.  I looked at those plain white cotton socks, and knew that I had to say good-bye.
I went to the store that day and bought new socks.  You should see me now.  My socks are bright.  Really bright.  They rarely match the rest of my clothes, and I don’t care how many people notice.  And, oh my word, are they ever magical.  Everyday when I get dressed, I put on my socks, and they remind me.
They remind me not to get pulled into living a boring drab monotonous life.  They remind me to find the joy and happiness that each day has to offer.  They remind me to honor the life and memory of my daughter by doing my best to live the rest of my days the way she lived hersout loud and in full color.
I’m telling you, every person should have magical socks.  Or I suppose you could settle for magical nail polish if you’re a sandal kind of gal.
Living life in color doesn’t promise protection from sadness, loss, or sorrow.  I know that.  I might understand this truth a bit more intimately than some.  The fact is that tragedy can happen to any one of us at any moment.  Nonetheless, I will embrace this day and all that it holds the good and the bad.  I will live this day in color.  I will live it out loud and on full volume.  And tomorrow, when I get ready to start a new day, I will reach into my drawer and pull out another pair of magical socks …and I will again be reminded that, though my daughter is gone, and though my sadness is great, I am alive, and life is meant to be lived.  Out loud and in color.


Go Back

I have a magical puppy! She is my constant reminder to be joyful. Unfortunately I haven't been listening to her lately. Thanks for another heartfelt blog. Tomorrow (actually today as it is another long night) I will dig a bit deeper for my own joy. It's got to be hidden somewhere amongst the puppy kisses!

P.S. great clip art!!

Wonderful advice, and beautifully expressed. Today I need to dig deeper into my sock drawer for my magical socks. Thanks Heather!