What does one do when one loses a precious remembrance of one’s Grandmother? This recently happened to me and I was desperate. I was frantic. It felt as though I lost my heritage. Sounds extreme but that is how I felt. Today we live in what some call a disposable society.
It was just a crystal teardrop from an old necklace. However, I had retrieved it from the tattered, but favorite, jewelry box, which sat on my Grandmothers dresser. It held just a few items and all I asked for was this one broken necklace, which was missing smaller crystals.
My Grandmother Viola died in 1955 when I was a mere 14-year-old girl. I remember visiting her often. Just writing this, I can see her and visually walk through my grandparent’s home on the east side of Milwaukee. We would walk hand in hand to the park near Riverside High School. She told many stories of when she was a little girl. The one I remember most is her describing the gaslights that lined the city streets. How many remember the song, “The Old Lamplighter”? I sure do.
All these fun memories came back because recently I lost my precious crystal teardrop. After she passed and we had to take care of her personal belongings, I found a broken necklace that had one center large crystal teardrop remaining. Many of the smaller crystals were gone but I did not care. I longed for the necklace no one else wanted.
Many years ago, I removed the crystal teardrop from the necklace and wore it as a single teardrop. I treasured it. It brought back many family memories. Now 58 years later it was gone. We cleaned our home, searched our cars, cut the vacuum cleaner bag open in case it was there, but nothing. Then I said a silent prayer asking to find it, somewhere.
I thought of where it might be, where had I gone? I remembered I had worn it to church one recent Sunday, so I called church and God answered my prayer. Much to my surprise it was there on the secretary’s desk. They had it for weeks and did not know of the owner. Perhaps it is time to get a new chain for my precious crystal teardrop.
It was just a crystal teardrop from an old necklace. However, I had retrieved it from the tattered, but favorite, jewelry box, which sat on my Grandmothers dresser. It held just a few items and all I asked for was this one broken necklace, which was missing smaller crystals.
My Grandmother Viola died in 1955 when I was a mere 14-year-old girl. I remember visiting her often. Just writing this, I can see her and visually walk through my grandparent’s home on the east side of Milwaukee. We would walk hand in hand to the park near Riverside High School. She told many stories of when she was a little girl. The one I remember most is her describing the gaslights that lined the city streets. How many remember the song, “The Old Lamplighter”? I sure do.
All these fun memories came back because recently I lost my precious crystal teardrop. After she passed and we had to take care of her personal belongings, I found a broken necklace that had one center large crystal teardrop remaining. Many of the smaller crystals were gone but I did not care. I longed for the necklace no one else wanted.
Many years ago, I removed the crystal teardrop from the necklace and wore it as a single teardrop. I treasured it. It brought back many family memories. Now 58 years later it was gone. We cleaned our home, searched our cars, cut the vacuum cleaner bag open in case it was there, but nothing. Then I said a silent prayer asking to find it, somewhere.
I thought of where it might be, where had I gone? I remembered I had worn it to church one recent Sunday, so I called church and God answered my prayer. Much to my surprise it was there on the secretary’s desk. They had it for weeks and did not know of the owner. Perhaps it is time to get a new chain for my precious crystal teardrop.
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