A String of Pearls


 A string of pearls has a few meanings to me. 

My mother loved the Glenn Miller Orchestra. Particularly their song, "String of Pearls." Sometimes she'd put her Glenn Miller 33 RPM vinyl record in the record console when cleaning the house. When that song came on, she'd turn it up and dance around as she dusted or washed windows or changed the sheets on the beds. I now understand why she liked that song. I've grown to like it too. Whenever I hear it, I can't sit still. It gets me dancing around the house.

My grandmother had a few pieces of jewelry that I fondly remember. Not because of monetary value. I have no clue what they were worth. But I do have a clue of their worth in the fact they were my grandmother's That makes them priceless to me. I remember on special occasions, like Thanksgiving or Christmas, she'd most always wear a swirly, silver pin. I can still see her pulling a turkey out of the oven. Although she wore a bib apron over her dress, that pin was still visible as she lifted that bird onto the top of the stove. Sometimes she'd wear a small round watch. It was a long necklace. I don't recall her ever checking the time. 

Two of her pieces of jewelry were my favorites. One was a small silver pin in the shape of a pony. The other was a short, double string of pearls with a beautiful pearl clasp. My grandmother didn't wear her pearls very often. I've figured out she saved them for good. But whenever she did wear them, I noticed. Over the years I'd remark about that little silver pony or her short string of pearls whenever she wore either of them. I think my grandmother understood how those two pieces of jewelry always caught my eye. You see, both of those pieces of jewelry are now in my dresser drawer. I never wear them. I treasure them.

Many of the things we value are not because of their monetary worth. It goes deeper than that. It's the memories they hold. Like precious memories wrapped about a string of pearls with a beautiful pearl clasp


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