A Little Sparkle

When my marriage ended I put my jewelry away.
Those baubles were given to me with love and it felt weird wearing them after the love had died.

And somehow, in my mind, jewelry and love are linked. I guess I believe the ads.

So it's been, oh, 13 years of having bare earlobes, fingers, wrists, neck, ankles, toes, bellybutton.... I've been OK with that. I don't have a man in love with me, and so I shouldn't (?) be bling-ed out. Besides, I'm getting old. I don't have pretty hands, I have pudgy wrists and my neck is wrinkly. Seriously. Who would want to draw attention to that?

But as I approached my 50th birthday, I put this item on my "101 Things to do in 1001 Days" list:
"Buy (and wear) a piece of jewelry"

I had no notion of what to get. I wasn't wasting precious blogging time looking for or dreaming about anything. I was simply keeping an open mind and challenging myself to get something, anything, that was pretty and "me" and had no commitment baggage attached. Something that a divorced 50 year old woman could wear that had meaning for me.

And then, a friend of mine, one who does not read this blog, or any of my lists, bought me a silver bracelet for my birthday and gave it to me on the cruise. It was one of those new-fangled charm bracelets... pandora style. I love it. It's kinda perfect. I can totally make it be 'me'.

My mom, the one with the eagle eye for shiny things, noticed it right away. The day after I got back she brought out a box that SHE had got for me (she DOES read my blog. And she does research my lists...)  and she got me the exact same type of bracelet! So I told her to keep the bracelet, but I'd love the charm... a silver bauble that has 50 carved in it.

So I went back to my list and put a check mark next to 'Buy and wear a piece of jewelry'. It's been on my right wrist since May. (Mostly because I can't get it off. It's a two man job. And I'm thinking I should get some help, because it would be easier to have it on my left wrist...)

And then. On my real birthday, my mom had another little box for me. My mom. The one who gave me life. The one who loves me more than any other person on earth. The one who sees me through rose colored glasses ... My mom gave me some sparkly jewelry because she loves me.

She loves me. And believes that I am worth bling-ing up. She doesn't think my hands or wrists are too old for glittering symbols of love. I am a loved woman and she thinks its OK to communicate that with a little something that twinkles.

Know what?
I feel different.
Now that I have a ring and bracelet, I feel a little bit cherished.
Kind of stupid, I know, but I feel like I have some value.
I catch myself looking at my right hand about a hundred times a day. Maybe my fingers aren't really all that fat.

All it takes is to have someone believe in you, and your perception changes.




Totally different, but kinda the same, is what happened last night on the way to church.
I got onto the freeway behind a septic cleaning tanker truck and screeched to a dead stop. Traffic was backed up because of a car accident. So it was slow going for many miles. Eventually I moved over to the left lane, anticipating that once we cleared past the accident site, I would be able to make up for lost time.

Not so. Despite moving ahead a few car lengths initially, the right lane caught up with me. I heard honking, so I looked around, wondering if it was someone warning me that emergency vehicles were on their way. But no one behind me was moving over to the side. Then I noticed it was the guy beside me. In the tanker truck. Honking and waving.

I turned down the volume on the radio, and started to roll down the passenger side window, wondering if I had a low tire, or if something was dragging, or maybe caught in the door.

I leaned across the passenger seat to see what he was pointing at.

"Hey sweetie!" Said the red-headed, red-bearded huge-smiled guy in the driver's seat. "Have a great day, now, OK?"

I rolled up the window and slowed right down, embarrassed for him. He must've thought I was someone else. He was anticipating his sweetie and he got me. He must be dying of humiliation.

I looked up, though he was now a car length ahead of me, his hand was still out the window, waving one last time before he rolled up his window.

"He must do that to all the women on the freeway," I deduced.

I kept him in my sites for the next 15 minutes, always just behind him by a car length, so we wouldn't have another uncomfortable exchange. He didn't wave at anyone else. He didn't honk at anyone else.
And then, from behind, another black Escape, same year as mine, crept up in the lane beside me.

"Ahhh. THAT'S who he was planning on flirting with," I thought. "He must've seen her earlier on the freeway."

I took a good look at her when she was even with me, and was surprised. She was older than me. Clearly.

"Of all the drivers of all the cars on the freeway this afternoon, that guy picked me? He chose to flirt with me? How did he even see me? He's up so high. And I'm way over here on this side of the truck... Was it the big red purse on the passenger seat? That purse gets alot of attention these days... Did he see the purse and assume I had the personality that matched it? Maybe red-haired men are attracted to shiny red purses?
I looked at my face in the rear view mirror. My hair was exceptionally full, almost fluffy and very clean. ( I was, afterall, on my way to church.) And there's alot of it right now. Was it the hair? All that blonde?

All he said was Hey Sweetie.
And he had me thinking.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. A few hours of sunshine today before 5 days of anticipated rain. I made good use of that sun. Window boxes and terra cotta pots are finally planted. Yay.
2. Read another few chapters in my Summer 2011 book projects. The one about sex trafficking is going to mess with me in a big way. People! We have to do something to protect those young girls...
3. I'm thankful that I had stuff to do today because today? Drew and Danica were off on their own ... the beach, dinner, and a movie. Sniff. They don't need me on their dates anymore. She's got her licence and access to a car. And *snaps fingers, Just Like That, I'm at a new stage of life again. I LOVED driving kids around. I've been doing it for years and years. Like 24 of them. And now? Just like that? I've been retired from that position?
A whole lot of free time just opened up for me.
Maybe I should start cruising up and down the freeway?
;)

Shalom,