my grandma and my aunt, her mom and sister, are great for stories of my mom's childhood. but "the younger years" of her being a wife, and a mom of two young children, that I couldn't relate to as a college student so never bothered to ask, knowledge of that time, is what I long to ask her now. so much about that daily life of hers, the silly mom questions that only she would really know the answer, or at least the answers I so wish to hear, are missed. so I cling to the few items I have.
her wedding ring. I wear it most days, I have her hands, and sometimes I look down and I see her hands. I know that memory.
a pair of old levi cut-offs, pretty dang close to daisy dukes, so they don't get a lot of wear. obviously post baby weight was not her issue.
a fun vintage seventies looking scarf, that I wear far too often to style my unwashed hair.
a pair of broken earrings.
these earrings hang in a clear bag on my inspiration board in my work area. my mom has been gone for 11 years tomorrow, and long before Lkj came to be, I have been designing and creating jewelry. yet these earrings still remain unwearable. I have tried a couple of times to finish them, but nothing seems right, not how I want them to be. they intimidate me. and the possibility of losing one while wearing them is unbearable, yet I wear her wedding ring daily. grief is strange like that.
still, they hang on my board as a sign of Hope, that I will get there, and possibly even wear them one day. and a sign of her Strength and Legacy that is inside of me, and they are a part of me, of my story. so for now, I just look at them and wonder about the woman, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, who once wore them.
and I ache for her.
thanks for letting me share,
kirsty
