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Monday, March 17, 2014

Day 17 - The Necklace


Yesterday I was reading a slice from Kris at her blog and her story got me, as it usually does.  I'm either smiling and nodding along as I read her writing or I'm teary-eyed with a lump in my throat.  It's good stuff...if you haven't seen her blog yet, check it out!

She wrote about a necklace that she wears and it made me think of a necklace that I wore once. 

My parents used to spend part of each winter in Florida.  Near the house where they lived there was a gigantic flea market.  There was literally one of everything in this place.  If you wanted to find it, it was there.  Each year, before returning home at the end of the winter, my parents would make a trip to pick out something for each of the kids and grandkids.  We often received some type of Florida t-shirt, but one year it was different.  One year, my dad decided to pick out jewelry for each of the daughters.  Mine was a necklace made from an Indian Head nickel.

To be honest, I didn't love it.  I didn't hate it but it wasn't really my usual style.  I wore it a few times but mostly it sat in my jewelry box.  I appreciated that my dad picked it out and he was very proud of that since gift picking was usually my mom's domain.

My dad was ill for quite a while before he passed away.  Near the end, I came across that necklace and put it on.  I looked at it differently this time.  This time it was perfect.  I wore that necklace every day until he passed away and he noticed too.  I remember holding his hand one day and he saw it and pointed and smiled.  I knew right then that I wouldn't be taking it off any time soon. 

He passed away soon after that day and I continued to wear that necklace every day.  It was like having a little piece of my dad with me every day.  When I was missing him I would touch it and think of him smiling at me.  It gave me comfort and it gave me strength, both of which I needed.  I continued to wear it every day for the next year.  I wore it until the necklace broke, which happened to be about one week after the one year anniversary of his passing.  I decided that was my dad's way of telling me it was ok to let it go now.  I still wear it on occasion (on a new chain), especially when I am missing him a little more than usual.  But now, I know he's with me even when I don't have the necklace on.  He's always with me.

6 comments:

  1. I have mementos too, a ring that my dad bought me. I am saving it for my daughter. Interesting how our perspective changes.

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  2. Yep...that was meant to be. I can only imagine that sometimes, people give us things to hold onto when they are gone....I have a teapot....that my sister in law gave me......sigh...

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  3. It's strange how things become more precious to us for various reasons. Loved reading your story as it brought back precious memories of my own. Thank you for the reminder of those memories.

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  4. What a touching story and memory. I had a ring from my aunt that I wore and felt a part of her was with me. I like that your father pointed at the necklace...so proud that he had picked it out...and you were wearing it. How special and loving. Jackie http://familytrove.blogspot.com/

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  5. I loved hearing your story of your dad buying the necklace I am sure he was proud of himself for picking you out some jewelry. My dad would have no clue what to pick out for me! There are so many memories around us and never know what will trigger them. Sometimes it will be a song that comes on the radio, places that we had been together or objects. I have a new appreciation for items of sentimental value. For so long I couldn't let go of so many of Trent's things but I've slowly given some things to family and friends because I realize that they will treasure them just as much as I do. Thanks for being my audience too! I feel like I can share my memories of my son and not be afraid that you will think I am that kookoo mother that lost her son and can't stop talking about him. I appreciate your kindness :)

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  6. This is a beautiful story, Robin.

    Isn't it funny how we hold items we don't love close because the people who gave those things to us are the ones we want to hold close?

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