I decided to take advantage of a rainy evening and clean out my shoes. Piled on the floor of my closet were rows of shoes, but there comes a time in every shoeaholic’s life when it’s time to make sense of the pile.

I come from a long line of shoe lovers. As a young girl, I remember playing dress up in my Aunt Bev’s closet with my cousin, both of us clomping around in our aunt’s high heels.

My Grandma Marguerite was a fiend for shoes. Three weeks before she passed away, my aunt told me they went shoe shopping, and Grandma bought some $75 shoes.

My aunt told her the shoes were too expensive, but my grandmother just shrugged, a twinkle in her eye. Later that week, they went to the doctor’s office. A young, handsome physician walked through the door, looked down at my grandmother’s feet and said “Nice shoes.”

Grandma looked at my aunt and said “Worth every penny.”

My mother always had fashionable shoes in her closet, and for a long time, all three of her daughters wore her same size. Many a morning, we made a mad dash to Mom’s room, rummaged around in her shoe closet and snatched whatever we could find.

Now I had my own shoe stash, but, eventually, space runs out. Thus began the culling of the shoes.

Grabbing two plastic bags, I began going through the stack. I picked up some faded blue suede shoes – yes, just like Elvis described – and a smile crossed my face. Those were the shoes I bought when I was 18, a broke college freshman.

I bought those shoes with some unexpected money my grandfather sent me, and they are a constant reminder that others might need some help at unexpected times. So those went back on the shelf.

Then there were four pairs of white dressy sandals. None of them were ever comfortable to wear, and I always ended up taking them off an hour after I put them on. Any girl worth her salt can put up with uncomfortable shoes for at least two hours.

I put them back.

Then there were a pair of gold shoes. For someone practical like me, having a pair of gold shoes is odd, but I have them because of my Aunt Kathy. She told me every woman should own a pair of gold shoes because they dress up an outfit and go with everything.

I put those back.

And then I came across my sandals. In Texas, having shoes that can survive 90-degree weather is a must, especially for somebody like me who loves to slip shoes on and off.

I put them all back.

Then I came to the dressy shoes. I reluctantly put a pair of three-inch black heeled shoes in the give-away bag, but a few minutes later, I got them out.

Who knows – I could go to a fancy event and I’d need those tall shoes. In fact, I probably needed all the shoes in my closet, so I folded up the empty give-away bag and closed the closet door.

My granddaughter just might like to play dress up one of these days, and I’d feel terrible if there weren’t high heels for her to clomp around in.

Sighing, I realized we shoeaholics are never cured. We simply live for the day we’ll find a pair of comfortable shoes on sale that happen to have some style.

And if they’re gold, then that’s truly a treasure.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.