full circle

When a parent dies, your brain may shut down for awhile to re-calibrate, or immediately conjure up all sorts of memories, both sweet and sour. The message could be profound and completely change your life, or be a charming, little vignette that softens your heart…perhaps a combination of both. No matter which emotions are triggered, welcome them, they have significance…they tell you something.  Pieces fall into place, loose ends meet.

Wait for it.  

Amongst the jewelry that came to me after my mother died this March, was an interesting, gold charm holder.  She wore it dangling around her neck at the end of a very long chain.  The charms were a varied collection of bells, crosses, and good luck talismans.  Seeing it immediately took me back to those years of my adolescence and spoke “mom” to me. 

I wanted to wear it, but not until I added the lucky charms from my own collection, making it “mine”.  Removing her amulets, I began anew, combining and arranging each until the holder was full.  I included all of her pieces, except for one.  It just didn’t belong there anymore.

Each time I added the tiny, gold capital “E” to the mix, a voice distinctly said, “no”.  I pay attention to those things, so I placed it in a box along with my parent’s wedding bands, knowing that the universe would tell me what to do with it eventually. 

I sort of forgot about it.  You may have noticed that the world demanded our attention elsewhere in the past several months and the universe has been busy sending more important messages to many of us.

“E” is for Eleanor

I’m sure you remember that during “lockdown” there wasn’t much need for anything except a change from day to night-time pajamas.  Neither require a matching scarf, shoes, or the perfect pair of earrings.  My jewelry and accessory drawers went untouched and unopened for months, as I’m sure did yours.  

Once it was time to venture out of the house again, it became a journey of rediscovery  Time to find each other and our place in the world, along with that forgotten clothing. Jewelry was hardly a priority, I hadn’t even worn a watch in months, so many weeks later, that exploration was my final destination.  

One by one, I methodically opened each box inside of each drawer, approaching them with childlike expectation…Christmas morning on steroids.    I had a wonderful time reacquainting myself with what had taken two lifetimes to acquire…both mine and my mother’s.  

Reaching for the red velvet box, I had no recollection of what was inside.  Cracking the lid, I spied the matching rings and the “E”.  None of my nieces or nephews had been named after either of my parents, but didn’t one of the girls have “Eleanor” for a middle name?  The universe interrupted my thought process with a boom.  “‘E’ is also for Erik”.  I had been thinking, “girl” so this obvious connection hadn’t dawned on me before.  Of course, my youngest brother should have it.  Duh…!

The youngest and the oldest

I was a freshman in college when Erik started kindergarten.  At that time, he was doing small chores around the house to earn money…twenty-five cents for this…a nickel or dime for that.  Not allowance, but payment for services rendered.  A good system for kids.

He had saved “three whole dollars” to buy a birthday present for mom with his “own money”.  Requesting I take him to a store that had “nice things that mom would like,” we went to Chas. A. Stevens at the local shopping mall.  It was one of mom’s favorites and mine, too.  Does anyone remember it?

He browsed through the finery with eyes big as saucers, blinking in disbelief at the price tags.  I suggested we pool our resources and buy something together, but he wanted the gift to be from him alone.  He also rejected the idea of somewhere less expensive, insisting upon a “store that mom liked”.  I was tickled by his determination and enlisted the aid of a stalwart saleslady behind the jewelry counter.

She gazed down into his big, brown, hopeful eyes and was an immediate recruit. We tore through the trays of costume jewelry for something that would fall into his budget, but always came up short.  Her final effort provided us with a sale basket of odds and ends.

Most of it was glitzy and just not mom’s style, but looking past the bling, I spotted a few gold-toned initial pins that had been marked down to three dollars.  Bingo!  Fingers crossed, I laid the remaining letters out onto the counter…no luck.  “There isn’t an ‘E’ for Eleanor or a ‘P’ for Pappas”.  He got up on tip-toe to eyeball the options before commenting, “But there’s an ‘M!’”

Professionally, my mother used her maiden name, but I was surprised by his suggestion.  “Well, I guess an ‘M’ for Montesano would be fine”.  Very annoyed with my rationale, he looked up at me and answered, “Nooooo, not Montesano…’M’ for MOM!”  How could you argue with that? 

A birthday surprise. .

A recent email from The Popcorn Factory asked if I wanted to repeat last years’ gift to my mother.  Sugar and starch were always her preferred food groups and over the years, I’d sent her quite a variety in celebration of one thing or another. This year, I hadn’t forgotten her birthday, but I wasn’t thinking about it the same as in years past. She would have been 89 years old on November 2 and looked “darn good for an old broad” until the day she died.

In commemoration, I’m sending her birthday gift to Erik.  Not the 6.5 gallon mix of caramel/cheese popcorn, but the little, gold “E” for his soon-to-be-collection of initials…because yes, he already has the “M”.

Would it surprise you to learn that while sorting out mom’s jewelry drawers after she passed, I turned up the “M” for MOM?  I knew exactly what to do with it.   Forty-nine years later, Erik had no memory of the event, but delighted at the story.  I hope he treasures it as our mother certainly did. 

I love happy endings, but I know that not all of them will be. Completion is very satisfying, nonetheless. Even if it takes fifty years…and with families, it just might! Don’t be afraid to tie those loose ends all together. When thoughts or things come around full circle, your life just might align.

Happy birthday, Mom, wherever you are!