Hello everyone and welcome to the first Storytelling Sunday of 2013. Sian has again come up with a great idea for this year with the plan to post about things which are precious to us over the coming year. As I had been a bit stumped as to what my story was going to be about this month I am so relieved Sian has given us this prompt. It has enabled me to tell a story which I probably wouldn't have ever bother with but looking back it is one of the most bittersweet and poignant stories I have.
So as you tell the story is all about a string of pearls. Many years ago the first person in my family to die was my dad's mum Rose. She passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly in hospital the day we were coming to take her home. For my grandfather Jack is was the loss of the woman he had shared his life with for over 50 years. One of the things which also happened that day was that he asked my mum, dad and I to sort through her clothes and jewellery which we all did with a heavy heart. Once we came to her jewellery box, my mum, lil sis and I sat down with my grandfather and he gave each of us a string of pearls as a lasting keepsake of my grandmother. I treasured those pearls in my jewellery box for a long time and didn't wear them until my parents bought me some matching pearl earrings for Christmas the following year.
At that time I was living in Cambridge, and my godmother was performing in an opera at Covent Garden so my parents and I went to see her perform. For such a glamorous occassion I wore my string of pearls and earrings for the first time. It was a wonderful event and on the way home on the train I clearly remember playing with my pearls and remeniscing about the day and my grandma. However, when I returned to my flat the pearls were gone, I hunted through my coat, clothing but to no avail. There then followed several emotional phone calls to the train service, the Royal Opera House and the taxi company but to no avail. The pearls were gone. As I'm sure you can imagine I was beside myself. I didn't know what to say to my dad especially and felt terrible about how special my pearls had been and so quickly had gone.
This story story does however have a happy ending. My mum told my other grandma what had happened and on the next visit home, my mum handed me a small package from my other grandma. Inside were the oldest and most delicate string of pearls I had ever seen. Surfise to say I was so overwhelmed I cried. These pearls have never been worn by me, and I know they should be, but I am so worried about losing them. They probably need restringing really but I don't have the heart to do that and risk them being damaged. So they live safely and happily in my jewellery box where they will remain. I do have a string of pearls which I bought for myself many moons ago and which I wear occasionally.
The story does not end sadly with regards to my grandma's other jewellery though as my grandpa actually gave me my grandma's wedding band and engagement ring which are also safe and sound and I wear occassionally to this day. One day these precious items will be passed on I hope to other generations of my extended family and friends.