Monday, April 8, 2019

WEP/IWSG April Challenge-Like Rubies



It's time for the April WEP Challenge! This month the theme is Jewel Box. Here's my take on it. I hope you enjoy!

Like Rubies

A layer of dust covers the top of the box, obscuring the dainty painted flowers that adorn its surface. I haven’t opened it in more than twenty years, and even laying eyes on it sends a shiver down my spine.

It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. I recall each item in there. Mom’s jewelry box used to be one of my favorite things to look through. As a little girl in pigtails, I climbed up into Mom’s lap with the gorgeous wooden box in hand. With a soft smile on her face, she sorted through each piece of jewelry and talked about the history behind it.

I close my eyes and picture the emerald necklace that used to belong to Grandma Lucy. She grew up dirt poor, as did Grandpa Wilbur. When they got married, they had only pennies to their name. “Who needs money when you’ve got love?” she used to tell us grandchildren. Nonetheless, Grandpa Wilbur felt guilty he couldn’t afford to buy his wife fancy things. He saved up for years to buy her that necklace. “The jewels may be the same color as your eyes, but they’re only half as beautiful,” he said when he gave her the gift.

I think I based my earliest ideas of love and romance around that story.

Then there’s the sapphire ring Mom received as a graduation gift. It came from her parents, another expensive item they must have saved up for, sacrificing frivolous extras for months on end. The jewel was small, but the blue depths resembled those of an ocean.

Then there were the ruby earrings. They were gifted to her by a beloved aunt who passed away soon after. I loved them once. I even begged Mom to let me wear them to my first school dance when I was twelve. Red used to be my favorite color, and the rubies perfectly matched the dress I bought. The dance didn’t turn out nearly as magical as I’d dreamed it would be, but I did have fun with my friends.

Unfortunately, that dance isn’t the main memory those earrings trigger for me. Not anymore.

Less than a year after that dance, I was in the car with my mother. We were out buying groceries to prepare for an incoming snowstorm. We didn’t want to go out in the bad weather, after all. It wouldn’t have been safe.

Neither of us expected the semi driver who fell asleep at the wheel. He crossed the median and barreled toward our car. Mom swerved so the impact was on her side only. I blacked out briefly.

When I opened my eyes again, I couldn’t look directly at her. I tried, but some instinct deep within me resisted. Instead I focused on other things. Droplets of blood clung to the windshield, though they appeared to be suspended in midair. The sun shone through them, and they glittered like rubies.

From that day on, I could no longer look at those ruby earrings without thinking of her blood sprayed across the glass. It was nonsensical, really. She wasn’t even wearing the earrings when she died. It’s just an association my brain made in a single traumatic moment, and I never could shake it. From that day forward, I couldn’t stand to look at any item of jewelry in that box. Too many memories were tied to it.

More than two decades later, my body trembles as I reach out and lay my hands on it. The dust coats my fingers as I lift it from the dresser where I’ve kept it safe for all these years. I settle on the edge of my bed and carefully lift the lid.

I’m a child again. The familiar colors of the jewels unearth something deep inside me. The sapphire and emerald sooth me with their presence. Warmth envelopes me as I think about sitting in my mother’s lap and the stories she told me time and again. I linger in that feeling as long as I can, though it’s only a matter of time before the ruby earrings tear it away.

I pick the earrings up and let them rest in my palm. That terrible day replays in my mind all over again. Once upon a time I thought nothing could blindside me like the sudden loss of my mother. For twenty years, that thought went unchallenged.

Then the cancer diagnosis came. Stage 4. Terminal. After weighing my options and listening to my doctors, I decided to forego treatment. I have no family left alive to protest that decision. My grandparents died long ago. I’ve never even met my father.

I never married and had children.

I thought I would have more time. Then again, so did my mother. Nothing in life is guaranteed.

With a sigh, I place everything back in the box and replace the lid. My appointment with the funeral director is in less than an hour. Hopefully I can get all the details hammered out with minimal fuss.

I cradle the box in my arms as I walk to my car. These jewels are going to be buried with me. There’s no one left to inherit them, and I can’t stand the thought of them being sold at auction.

No. When my coffin closes for the final time, this jewelry box will rest alongside me. Some things are best buried.

Word Count: 900
FCA

24 comments:

  1. That was really amazing - nice work. I somehow felt I could relate to the narrator, even though I haven't lost close family members or been diagnosed with cancer! But I mean I could understand why the character would want to look in the box one last time, and why the decision would be made to be buried with it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beautiful and tragic. A powerful read!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Beautifully written and so sad. I'm weeping as I type.

    [My WEP entry will be combined with the A to Z Challenge on the 17th.]

    ReplyDelete
  4. Such a poignant and moving piece.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Powerful and truly lovely.
    I am so very glad that she is taking her precious memories with her.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Laura, so cleverly put together with the maximum emotion. You drew me in and kept me riveted. So so sad in many ways but upliftng in others. You do share something in common with my story - an emerald necklace ... but there the similarity ends.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Sad story, beautiful and powerful. It resonates too well.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I felt the same pang of sorrow discovering her plan for her jewelry box as I did for the emerald at the end of the movie Titanic. Oh no. How sad.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Lovely and sad. Who says you can't take it with you? All those memories, good and bad, will be buried with her, as she rests for eternity.

    ReplyDelete
  10. How sad and powerful. I feel that she is right to take the jewels with her.

    ReplyDelete
  11. A heart wrenching story well written. Too sad that she has no one to inherit the jewels but that last line of the story said it well.
    I used to be allowed to play in my mother's jewel box too as long as I put the necklaces and earrings back where they had been.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Heart breaking. It does happen though. You did an excellent job writing this. I love how you described the jewels.

    ReplyDelete
  13. This story saddened me greatly. It sometimes amazes me how people hoard things thinking that life on earth is forever or that tomorrow is guaranteed. Nothing last forever here. There really are no guarantees. Your story made me think about my own life situation at the moment.
    Great job.
    Shalom aleichem,
    Pat G

    ReplyDelete
  14. Wow! This story shimmers like the depths of one of those jewels from beginning to end. Each memory attached with each piece just brought me into a fuller understanding of your character. The rubies, the windshield, the final moments with the box - the whole story just built to it's beautiful and poignant conclusion.
    Well done!

    ReplyDelete
  15. Well done. I'm finding it difficult to read these stories at present, so many of them seem to feature deaths of relatives.

    ReplyDelete
  16. So powerful and so tragic. I am totally in agreement with the character - that jewels/memories should be passed on only to the deserving. Better to be buried than to be in the hands of people who do not value them.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Hi Laura - you've brought the story together so well - I too played with my grandmother's jewellery ... nothing fabulous though ... beads rather than jewels. She's obviously made decisions that she needs to keep to herself ... a story could be in the telling in a few hundred years when the jewel box is found once again. Interesting perspective - but I'd hate to lose my mother that way. I enjoyed it - cheers Hilary

    ReplyDelete
  18. I loved the way you described the jewels. Could certainly picture them (am quite sad about the ending though, if only she didn't have to die so early).

    ReplyDelete
  19. So sad. Life is short and to lose your mother at a young age is tragic. Too bad she didn't find anyone, but some folks don't Well written.
    Nancy

    ReplyDelete
  20. A beautiful piece. The ending was so unexpected... but perfect.
    Quite sad too. Such a strong sense of finality.

    ReplyDelete
  21. This was my favourite story till now. So intense and so beautifully painted. I didn't expect that ending.

    ReplyDelete
  22. I like how the red rubies became a reminder of red blood. You did great work with the symbolism here.

    ReplyDelete
  23. Yeah, it is best to take some things to your grave. Very powerful.

    ReplyDelete
  24. Yes, I’m still trying to get all the WEP stories read! Glad I finally made it here—this is a beautiful heartbreaker of a story. Well done.

    ReplyDelete