My Mother's Necklace

A friend, in her blog, recently wrote about her most treasured possession. Her story was lovely, as were the items she chose. Ever since reading that post, I can't stop thinking about my most treasured item: my mother's Immaculate medal.


This is a necklace that I wear every day. I never take it off. It has hung around my neck almost since the night my mom breathed her very last breath. I wear it because every time I feel it brush against my skin, I think of her. Every time I grab hold of it, I think of how I used to trace it's circular shape when she wore it. It is the closest thing I have to having her with me.

The necklace was always our special thing. I remember the day it arrived. She was so excited and it looked so beautiful shining on her neck. The gold chain glittered, as did the cut rim around it. The Virgin Mary was so very tiny, yet so detailed that you could see the benevolent smile on her little face. I memorized the prayer written ever so small in the halo around her: O Mary conceived without sin pray for us who have recourse to thee. I would breathe in the scent of Mom's perfume while I stroked the gold chain and laid my head on her shoulder. Of course, since she loved it so much, I did, too. I would constantly nag her to let me wear it to school or when we went out as a family. She nearly always let me and it always made me feel so special to be able to wear something so fancy. It's selfish, but I always loved that she never let Traci wear it--only me.

Now, I am going to make a confession. Something I never told anyone about because I was too ashamed. When she was sick, she couldn't wear the necklace anymore. And I took it from her jewelry drawer. I wore it to a family friend's house when I was babysitting their kids. I took it off to go swimming, you know, to keep it safe. And I lost it. It could have gone anywhere. The kids were little, one could have grabbed it and thrown it in the toilet, garbage or grass. It could have fallen into the pool and been sucked up by the filter. And the worst part? I couldn't remember where exactly I had put it! There are no words to describe the terror and heartbreak I felt. And how could I tell?

I know it sounds crazy, but I found it just after she died. In the bag that I brought with me that day I went babysitting. In the little attached change purse. The one that I had already searched a million times before. A place I knew I hadn't put the necklace. But there it was. That day, I put it on, and it has left my neck only a handful of times since.

I wore it the day I graduated from high school. The day I found out I got into college. I was wearing it the day that Bart proposed to be on that little beach at the Cape and I wore it on the day of our wedding. It's silly, but it is like she's been there with me through each moment. I didn't even cry for her on my wedding day because I didn't feel like she was missing. All I felt was sublime happiness.


Now, when I look at my mother's necklace, I don't think it's as fancy as I thought it was when I was small. It is simple and beautiful, very elegant. Just like my mom.