The Reindeer Keeper

 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, tha...

While doing some cleaning-out-of-stuff in the garage recently I came across an old cardboard box marked fragile. Pulling the box closer to me, I sat down and removed the yellowed, crinkled tape holding it together; then slowly opened it. As I began lifting away layers of crumpled newspapers, I noticed something towards the bottom, half exposed and sparkling. Taking a closer look, I knew what I’d found.   Every once in a while, I’d wonder where it’d gone. After removing the rest of the newspapers, I stood with that box in hand and went inside the house. Putting it down on the kitchen counter, I began pulling out small crystal cups and eventually, a crystal punch bowl and crystal ladle. All of the pieces had belonged to my mother.   Taking a wet cloth, I wiped away leftover bits of newspapers and grit and remnants of leaves that had found their way inside the box. The longer I stood there, the more memories of that crystal punch bowl came back to me. My father was a memb...