Genuine
My husband handed me a little bag filled with worn velvet boxes. Little treasures his dad bought for his mom throughout their lifetime together. Little treasures she left behind when she went to meet his dad in heaven. “I thought you and Jessie would like these,” he said. I opened the first box to reveal a gold opal necklace with matching earrings. They were “real” opals set in 14K gold. “Let’s put them under the tree,” I said. “We can tell her Christmas morning that her grandfather bought them for her grandmother.” Mitch loved the idea and the fact that opal was actually our daughter’s birthstone.
I opened the next box, a small square grey velvet one, which revealed the name "Wilson’s" printed in the silk on the inside top cover. Wilson’s was a large gift retailer and jewelry store. My thoughts took me back to 1978 when I worked there. Mitch lost his father before I married him, so I had never met him. Could he have asked to see those square diamond earrings? Could his hands have held this diamond and baguette necklace? Could I have watched as he pondered if she’d like it?
“Do you think it’s real?” Mitch broke into my thoughts. “Not sure,” I mumbled, “but it’s pretty,” I added. “You can take it to the jeweler to find out,” he said. I thought it wasn't important if it was “real” or not. His parents' love was, and that was genuine enough. “I’ll wrap it and put it under the tree from you to me,” I said with a smile.
On Christmas morning, I opened the small box. I took my time with it and appreciated that my husband wanted me to have a piece of his parents' life together. I’ve worn it every day since Christmas and have treated both the earrings and necklace as if they were real. This morning, when I was putting them on, “genuine” came to my mind.
Genuine... g e n u i n e resounded with me. Oh! Was this it? I am on a retreat where I was asked to seek a word for the upcoming year. I took some time to get quiet and turned on a worship song, following along in my head. In this quiet space, my mind's eye went to the earrings and necklace.
Those square stones—I’ve always worn round stones. When life felt right and normal, I’d say I felt like a round peg in a round hole. Nothing has felt right or normal these past six months. “They're unique,” I thought, “like me.” I’ve been finding a new me underneath the trauma, underneath the pain.
My thoughts shifted to the pendant, a square made up of diamonds and baguettes, actually just the outline of the square. It’s a box. I’ve been passionate against “boxes” lately— the “boxes” people assign to each other. It seems we all have to fit somewhere: Christian, Jewish, Republican, Democrat, rich, poor, angry, and just tired of it all. When did we get to a place where we all have to be and think alike? I’m wearing this genuine box over my heart to remind me that the only thing going in or out the door of my heart will be genuine.
As I walked through the steps of my retreat, answers came that addressed my losses, my pain, and my relationships. I began to see that I had agency over my life and I could choose to live and love with my heart wide open. I could choose to be genuine, embrace the genuine, and gently release the disingenuous.
Yes, my word is genuine.
2019