Saturday, April 24, 2010

Tangled Memories

Around 11:30 last night as I prepared to haul myself to bed, I realized that I had yet to take the day's picture. Completely devoid of inspiration and fiending for sleep, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and took my camera with me to my bedroom, hoping that something photo-worthy would jump out at me. It didn't, so I settled for the jewelry box next to my bed. As soon as I opened it, I immediately remembered why I never wear jewelry box is a freakin' mess.

I mean, really, I had one of those pin-on fabric flowers that were all the rage five or so years ago because Carrie Bradshaw sported one.
That, at least, was an accessory and thereby forgivably stored in the jewelry box. I could even follow the logic of storing a few of those extra button packets in there. What I didn't understand was why the nozzle to the pump that came with my exercise ball had taken up residence in my jewelry box.

As I poked through the clutter, however, I also discovered a whole bunch of reasons to start wearing jewelry again. Along with the random crap that I have carelessly tossed in there over the years, I found a lot of baubles, valuable and otherwise, that made me feel warm and fuzzy with memories.

The pearl wrap bracelets that I wore on our wedding day lay coiled next to the tiny gold bracelet with the teddy bear and "Little Princess" charms that my grandmother gave me when I was little and the heavy necklace with the green and pink stones that I made with my sisters at that shop in Puerta Vallarta. 

I rediscovered treasures passed down from grandmothers, my nana's jade ring and bracelet, my gramma's silver charm bracelet, and an inexplicable frog broach of unknown origins.

Wrapped around the bracelet I got in India were the bracelet and necklace that I wore when I stood beside my best friends on their wedding days, and behind that was the watch (no longer working) that my parents gave me for my 21st birthday.

Along with the remnants of the engagement ring that my mother-in-law so generously sacrificed to make mine, I found the ring I bought to wear to my junior prom and the first piece of jewelry that I ever received in that coveted blue box, a silver heart necklace that my aunt and uncle gave me for my high school graduation.

This is a page I scanned from my high school scrapbook... Apparently, my obsession with photographic documentation began many years ago.

The point of all of this rambling and reminiscing is...I have moved my jewelry box to a more prominent location and am rededicating myself to taking the extra five minutes in the morning to adorn myself with these wearable memories. 

Newly reorganized and detangled jewelry box

No comments:

Post a Comment

Talk to me, Goose