Forever Tainted

I love shiny things, which is one reason I adored Leah S’s nickname for Lars, ‘Shiny Lars’ – the implication being, I help make him shiny. In return, he sure helps keep me shiny too: both literally and metaphorically.

As the legal proceedings for my mom’s estate slowly come to an end, I was recently called into the law office to collect the necklace my mom had left me, the bracelet she left to my sister Kelly and the large Ruby and diamond ring she left to my brother Jesse. Each piece is stunning, though I certainly was left the prize of the lot. The 18k specialty gold chain was appraised more than 15 years ago for over $7500, the matching bracelet left to Kell, more than $2000. More importantly, the necklace was purchased by the one of the Sheikhs in Dubai in 1993, of my father’s choice to bring home to my mom as a gift, with hopes she’d agree to go to visit them the following year. It was all partially about helping her make up her mind about moving us all out there eventually. The following year, when my mother did go with my father to visit, they bought the matching bracelet and my mom made up her mind. We were moving to Dubai. My mother wore the set up until it was believed the weight of it was causing her nerve damage in her arms. So in 2005 when they returned to Canada from Dubai to visit, it went from her neck to the safety deposit box. It was her all-time favourite piece of jewellery, with family history that helped mould the rest of our lives together and I am honoured to wear it now. I am thankful my beautiful sister Kelly will have the matching bracelet.

The ruby ring is almost iconic of my mom, the design so traditionally hers. The quality is perfect excepting the damage created in her last years when she started soldering rings together to make room, or free up fingers, for new additions to her collection. This ring in particular was soldered to the diamond engagement ring my father gave her, that she willed to Sheila, that disgrace of a human being; I hate to refer to as my sister. We expect that ring will be pawned in no time.

My brother, in financial hardship has offered to sell me the ruby ring for a few hundred dollars. I have agreed to purchase it (believing it’s probably worth less), wanting to keep this icon in our family and not trusting that it will last long with him, as he has a very transient lifestyle and very few possessions he holds on to; excepting his computer. Since I don’t have the cash at this moment, I’m so very thankful for Lars to be there, to help make me shinier than he has already.

Still wearing the very first bracelet my father gave my mom, and in possession of the $5 cheap Abalone ring – the very first piece of jewellery he ever bought her, I’m starting to feel a lot like her. My hands resemble hers (you’d be quick to call me a gypsy with all these rings – as many teased her); my neck and wrists also decorated as hers were, I feel heavily shiny and a heavy presence of my mom with me. For some reason, I also feel a lot of guilt. I feel like the jewellery is not mine, but hers. I feel like it should still be decorating her lively self. I feel like my mom should still be alive to wear her own precious pieces.

I wonder if those feelings will ever change…