Pearls

“We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”
-Thornton Wilder

I would not usually consider myself superstitious. Keen for traditions maybe, but not an irrational believer. However, there is one aspect of my life where I lean towards superstition—and an odd aspect at that. My jewelry. Having lost a good numbers of wonderful loved ones in my life, I feel especially connected to them in the jewelry that I have been blessed to have received from them. On days when I'm nervous about a presentation or a job interview, I wear a pair of silver and turquoise earrings that my dad gave me. He can ride shotgun on my earlobes to keep me from making a total fool of myself. On days when I'm missing my Momo, I wear her gold heart necklace that I remember hanging around her neck for so many years. From my own neck, she can comfort me and assure me it's all going to be okay.

For the last week and a half I have worn my pearls. They were a bridal gift from Poppy and Mary Lou. I wore them on my wedding day when Poppy walked me down the aisle. While they decorate my ears and neck, I believe that they also provide a link from my heart to his. Even when I manage to put his fragile condition out of mind for a moment, I can feel certain that he is never too far.