Remembering Mom

Remembering Mom

Staring at the pink diamond earrings laying in the palm of my hand seemed to open a flood gate of memories. I remember the day as if it were yesterday when I became the proud owner of these pretty little gems.

I was seven years old and our family of five had taken a trip to Germany. My parents hadn’t been back to their homeland in several years and this was a trip to help alleviate mom’s homesickness and/or to see if they wanted to move back to Germany.

As children, we were oblivious to any ulterior motives our parents may have had and simply embraced the adventure of travel.

I thought the gems were pink tourmaline, but when I had the level clasps replaced, the jeweler said they were rare pink diamonds.

Part of that adventure for me personally was getting my ears pierced. Back in the ’60s, it was rare to see little girls with their ears pierced in America but rather common in Germany.

Being a girly-girl (no Tomboy here), I was already into fashion, dresses, and jewelry at a young age and when I noticed young girls sporting beautiful dangly earrings, I wanted in … I wanted pierced ears and hanging earrings.

Ah, my poor mother! Off we headed to the local jewelry store to pick out a pair of earrings. I was given a few choices, but immediately knew which pair I wanted.

Easy peasy, so far! I sat in a tall chair while the jeweler, an old intimidating type of man, marked my earlobes with a pen for mom’s approval. Mom held my hand while the jeweler held a strange device up to my ear. A second later a hole was punched in my earlobe. It hurt much more than I was told it would, and then it began bleeding. Blood started running down my neck and I burst out hysterically crying.

It took what seemed like an hour before I calmed down. Everyone kept trying to convince me to have the other ear pierced. Yep, dad, big brother, and three-year-old little sister were all there dealing with my antics. My mother was exhausted, exasperated, and out of patience, and clearly, the jeweler couldn’t wait for us to leave. Mom had had enough of my drama and with a firm stern voice, she ordered me to get back up on that chair, stop crying, and sit still and then ordered the jeweler, “Do it, NOW”.

Five minutes later, I was skipping down the sidewalk tilting my head from side to side to feel the hanging earrings swing. I loved those earrings (and still do) and wore them every day for years. Today I retrieved them from my jewelry case and am proudly wearing them. Somehow, it makes mom feel just a little closer.

“For everything I am today, my mother’s love showed me the way”

Happy Mother’s Day

It has been several years since my mom’s passing and not a day goes by that I don’t miss her. But I feel blessed that she lived 83 years providing my children with lovely memories of their Oma. Our family is truly fortunate to have had such an amazing woman in our lives.

I can only hope that my own children think of me and my mothering skills with equal fondness.

Wishing you all a wonderful day.

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