I took my father’s shoes off before the ambulance arrived

Dear Delyara, My father collapsed in the kitchen this morning. While my brother called the ambulance, I knelt beside him and removed his shoes. I do not know why. Perhaps because he hated wearing shoes inside and Mother would have told him to take them off. Perhaps because death was already in the room and I needed one ordinary rule to remain. The paramedics arrived and worked for thirty-five minutes. They asked us to move back. One of Father’s shoes lay upside down near the refrigerator, the sole worn more deeply on one side from the way he walked after hip surgery. He died before sunrise. After the body was taken away, Mother picked up the shoes and placed them neatly beside the door, as though he might need them later. Nobody has moved them since. Relatives filled the house all day. People brought coffee, bread, chairs, prayers, and advice. Every person stepped around the shoes. Tonight, the house is quiet, and I keep thinking about my hands pulling the laces loose while Father’s face turned grey. It was not medical help. It did nothing to save him. Still, his final moments happened barefoot on the kitchen tiles, inside the home where he had always wanted shoes removed, and some part of me is grateful I remembered who he was before everyone began treating him as a body.