My literal piles, as opposed to the figurative ones I mentioned the other day,
have been moved and sorted again. In the process
I found several bits of my jewelry.
I have very little jewelry
--and furthermore never wear any, even a wedding ring--
so it was quite a surprise to find them in the pile.
My bracelet from my sister
A hat pin from my grandmother-in-law's inheritance
A butterfly hair clip from Greece as a gift from that same grandmother-in-law
--one of the first things that ever made me feel like she accepted me in the family--
And here they are again in the same location and
later tonight I will put them in the box with the other jewelry I never wear
which I save
even though I do not expect I will ever grow into a fancy stage
a dress-up stage
and my children will find it in a box as my heirlooms and wonder what it was all about.
Maybe I should write a story about each piece
because I wouldn't keep them if they didn't have a story
so that when they find them
they will be as valuable to them as they are to me.
Maybe.
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