Grandmothers, mothers, and daughters are so connected in life and death.
My nephew had a basketball game at 7:30 on my birthday, Friday, December 22nd, so my brother said, “Let’s celebrate your birthday on Saturday.” I said, “Surely, doesn’t matter to me.”
My mother eased next to me, “Well, when are you going to open your presents?”
“I don’t care,” I said. “Tomorrow, is fine.”
Saturday morning mom asked again, “Are you going to open your presents this morning?”
“Nah, I don’t care. We can open them tonight.”
“Before dinner?” she asked. Her eyes sparkled.
“Ma, I can open presents after dinner when we usually do. Doesn’t really matter.”
“Oh, okay.” She seemed a tad disappointed.
We arrived home around 9 after dinner at Cru in Atlanta. Mom disappeared; then, re-appeared with black velvet boxes.
She slipped them onto the kitchen counter as only velvet can slip and create anticipation.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, “What is this?”
“Well, there is a story, My Dear…”
“I love stories, Mom!”
“I was searching for a piece of jewelry in a box in my bedroom on December 3rd when I touched an envelope with ‘Una’s stones’ written on the outside.”
(Una was my grandmother. We affectionately called her Noona because one of her grandchildren couldn’t pronounce Una.)
“Go on…” I said.
“I had come upon that envelope before. Actually, I’ve been unearthing it each time I go into that jewelry box. I’ve been tucking it away for years now.”
At this point in her story, my brother, my sister-in-law, my niece, my nephew, and my daughter were all hanging over the counter listening to every word my mom dispensed.
She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Later that day, I was in the shower, and something suddenly hit me. It was like I’d received a phone call directly from Noona. She said to me—do something with those stones! For goodness sake, it’s been years!”
Well, Mom reminded all of us that the 20th anniversary of Noona’s death was December 4th. My grandmother had clearly told my mom what to do.
So, mom promptly went to the jewelers the next day, found the perfect settings for the “stones” (diamond and two topaz).
I know my grandmother is smiling somewhere up there now because I haven’t taken the delicate, sparkling diamond and topaz ring or necklace off. Her daughter listened.
Even when our grandmother or mother isn’t around, they somehow get messages to us in the form of diamonds.
(My mom’s 86th birthday is January 10th.)