A day when my thoughts were crowded. Memories and memorials do-looping since 3 a.m. this December 13th. Wanting warmth and comfort while getting ready for a mid-morning appointment I reached for my great grandmother’s engagement ring and a pair of earrings my father had given me years ago. So many years ago.
A shopping trip from long ago and across the pond makes me smile every time I remember it. I liked the earrings as soon as I saw them. More importantly I loved the day. My father didn’t often shop with me growing up, so these limited outings were exceptionally special. Having my mother smile approvingly was icing on the cake. Quite possibly I love this pair of earrings even more today. They now have more character than perfection and their value is what I have ascribed to them.
My parents first visit when we lived in London was greatly anticipated. We missed seeing them with the frequency we were accustomed to in Massachusetts. I couldn’t wait for them to arrive. It was my father’s first trip back to London since he was a GI in WWII. Haunted by war memories his travels had kept him closer to home. However, he would move mountains to see his youngest daughter and grandchildren while we were living abroad. London bound he was without any outward signs of hesitation.
Suitcases were filled with food items my mother thought I might be missing from home. More importantly what her grandchildren might be wanting. Family mattered most to my parents.
Day one. A shopping trip to South Kensington just down the High Street from our home in Kensington. Harrods was our first destination. In the late 90’s Harrods was classic in charm and decadence. Wooden framed glass cases. Ornately painted ceilings. Gold and brass walls and fixtures. Grand in all its splendor.
We had enjoyed coffee and croissants in the food hall before the shopping work of the day commenced. We wandered over to the jewelry section. Our heads swiveled as we took in the images of grandeur while we chatted nonstop. A very long way from the rural neighborhood I grew up in.
We stopped at one of the glass cases where modest earrings were on display. A small pair of sterling silver drop earrings caught my eye. Half-moon in design they glittered. Tiny rhinestones filled in the margins. Delicate they were. My father noticed my eyes widen. “Honey, do you like those?” Yes, I quietly said. The moment so special. Mine they immediately were, and I have loved them always.
The sparkle has dimmed but the memory, not. Some of the rhinestones have gone missing over the years. So small that their decision to vacate had gone unnoticed. Easily they would be lost on clothing or a carpet. They hold a special spot in my jewelry box but even a more important place in my heart. Their intrinsic value is not monetary but heartfelt.
I wore them this December 13th and while they were powerless to take away the traumatic events of a lifetime ago, they gave me the needed hug from my dad…
“She did not stand alone, but what stood behind her, the most potent moral force in her life, was the love of her father.” Harper Lee
https://elizabeth-ricketson.com/2020/12/13/defined-by-an-unspeakable-event/