After she died, I gave the jewelry box to our daughter.
Inside were modest pieces we’d accumulated over the years. Pearl earrings from an anniversary and cool necklaces bought in San Francisco many years ago. And also the engagement ring and wedding band. The diamond, purchased from an Army Captain’s salary, was not very big. The band included a few diamond chips and spaces to add more.
We never got around to that.
I was folding laundry when I found the first one. I dropped a sock that somehow ended up under the bed. It landed next to an earring I gave her soon after we were married. I found the second one under a phone charger in the drawer of her night stand.
She had worn them during a last visit to Lake Placid together. At that time, we still had hope that the latest treatment plan was working. We left to get back in time for her next appointment. She would die thirty days later.
When I realized what I had found, I feared they would swallow me in sadness. They didn’t.
Instead, they reminded me that before sadness, there is often joy. And it is left to you to choose between the two.
Eventually, they will join the other reminders in the jewelry box. But not just yet.
I’ll hang on to them for a bit and remember our good times together before she left the earrings behind in Lake Placid.
Finding North 