Blessed bling

(A note of explanation: I had actually scheduled this post for several days from now but WordPress screwed up and ran it today. I think it implies that I am totally oblivious to the stunning, and what I consider disastrous, results of the presidential election. I’m not, and I’m still trying to grapple with all the implications. As for the Kindle Scout thing…they may as well reject me now, because at this point, it would have no emotional effect on me at all. Plus I’m ready to publish myself now. Well, onward Americans. Now is not the time to give up the good fight.)

Now I may be a writer with a spiritual bent, but I sure do love my bling. I don’t have a jewelry box, it’s a whole drawer of my dresser. I’m not really a wanton and greedy collector of shiny things—I don’t even wear it much, though I do have a fetish for bracelets–but my jewelry drawer functions as a very pretty time capsule. I have a little costume-sapphire ring that Santa Claus put in my stocking decades ago; I can’t wear it, but I treasure it. I have still a gold bracelet given to me by the first man to steal my heart—alas, a man not my husband. But lots of tokens over the years from said husband, as he gradually learned the art of Appropriate Wife Gifts (i.e., not household appliances). And lovely little things from my sweet daughter, who always seems to know exactly what Mama loves.

I was rummaging through my jewels, looking for my wedding band, which I don’t wear because somehow, during my long-ago pregnancy, I outgrew it (I only gained 15 pounds carrying Frannie, but for some reason my hands and feet got bigger and stayed that way.) My husband had since replaced it with a golden Claddagh ring (with only minimal prompting from yours truly), but I needed the old band to photograph for the new revised cover of Wives of the Saints. I had the notion that I could replace the text ‘o’ in Of with an actual wedding band. But I had to go through every partition and corner of the drawer before I could find it, and looking at all that bling made me realize: Oh my God, I’m old!

But loved. There’s too much stuff I bought for myself, but lots of pieces from people I love and have loved—close family, good friends, and even not-so-close people who wandered into my life at one time or another, no longer with us. Love: That motivation gets slammed into our heads every February in the weeks leading up to Valentines Day, but truly, it should be the only real function of jewelry. It doesn’t necessarily make you prettier or more beautiful when you put it on. It shouldn’t really be an indicator of how well off you are. But it should be a symbol of connectedness, of loving and being loved in returned. What’s more beautiful than that?

So bring on the bling! My drawer is pretty full, but there’s always room for one more piece!

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