While I was unpacking from a recent weekend in Bordentown, I realized my Cosmetic Bag was missing. I don’t use cosmetics but I do place my personal items in there. I frantically searched through all the tote bags and book bags that I tend to take along, bringing home more than I took. Nothing. I tore apart my wee car that has no room to hide anything. Nothing. I looked on the porch, steps, and around the car. Nothing.
I was devastated!
Eating in restaurants and not taking my diuretics over the weekend (because I was too busy running here & there) caused my hands to swell a bit. Since I was leaving early in the morning, I had not exercised at all. That added to the swelling. Which means that I tossed all my rings into the jewelry pouch and tossed it into my Cosmetic Bag. Which means that I lost the most precious item I own….a Mother’s ring that my four sons gave me-on Mothers’ Day- back in 1976. It is the only thing I possessed that all four boys gifted me together.
Sobbing over my loss, sorrow and remorse set on my chest like a lead barbell. Before the end of the day, I dowsed with my crystal which told me that I would never see my precious ring again. Realization set in and I went to my laptop to heal this gaping wound.
This is what came out:
How Empty the Vessel
How empty does the vessel have to be
before it begins to refill or is it refilling
and I don’t notice
My sons are gone; I no longer mourn the loss
yet losing my ring after 38 years of feeling its
preciousness, of being so cautious, of leaving
it home if there was a chance of losing it;
the ring they gave me one Mother’s Day;
a collective gift the youngest boy didn’t even
realize, yet was included anyway
also in the pouch was a bracelet, not expensive
with small matching turquoise triangles on lacy
gold, just recently brought out to wear again
bought in a moment when money was short
I needed a lift to keep me from sinking into a pit
so I bought it; leaving milk & bread & beef &
cigarettes off the list to accommodate
never regretting it
a pair of cloisonné bangles, that I held back
from selling in the shop, unable to part with them
I’ve parted from them now;
a slender, delicate rhinestone tennis bracelet that I
bought, though I don’t play tennis, a bracelet that
lovers & husbands buy to show their love; I felt
pleasure wearing it, does that mean I love myself,
can I still love myself now that the bracelet is gone?
a silver spoon ring given in friendship from a
lover that still carried the love in it & the memories
40 years later; will a replacement feel the same on
my finger? a spiral ring, the symbol of eternity,
purchased in a special moment exuding joy whenever
it was worn; gone…they are all gone
losing things was rare for 40 years, never lost a thing
then it began, first my son Kenny, then my son Guy,
a diamond out of my engagement ring from my beloved
Angelo, his signet ring given with great intensity, one
diamond stud earring, lost in my bed at night-never to be
found, how could that be? then Angelo passed; only things
truly loved from those I truly loved, is this a cleansing;
is this the emptying before the refilling can begin;
this must have meaning to it; these losses hurt
I’m letting go of the past …I am letting go … I promise
I am letting go.
Arlene Sandra Bice © 2014
I can only hope that a man/boy found the Bag and is joyful in giving my treasures to someone who will cherish them as I did. Someone who thrills in their good luck, is what I picture. I prefer that to an image of the Bag being tossed into a trash can where no one would love them.