Yesterday, after making a Sunday’s worth of sandwiches, I excitedly drove to Nordstrom’s Rack to buy $9.97 worth of sparkle for my ears. I was happy. Truly happy. First, it was a spectacularly sunny day, work was over for the day, and had $10.00 cash in my hand. I laughed out loud as I snatched the cubic zirconia studs from the rack. Taking my place in line, I contemplated the journey that brought me to that savored moment.
A few months ago, in an effort to further simplify my life and yet again, reduce monthly expenses I cut my hair, short. From that moment to this one, I have often thought, that the silver that has been added as a result of my mother’s death would go well with a pair of diamond studs. In the intervening weeks I have belittled myself many times for entertaining such a frivolous notion in the face of what occasionally is experienced as never ending financial challenge.
Then one morning, while re-reading the book of Ruth I had an epiphany that led to a course correction of rippling magnitude. Considering all the many, many unexpected, unearned miracles and treasures that have come into my life in the last several months is it really so far out of reach to think that the cubic zircons of myself won’t eventually become diamonds?
Clutching my bright future tightly in my hand, I suddenly became aware that a number of people in line were complaining. LOUDLY – about the wait. Couldn’t they feel how blessed we were to be there? Weren’t they too experiencing the sweetness of acquisition? I thought of at least 174 people who would have gladly traded their places for ours.
Arriving home, I immediately put on those earrings then proceeded to laugh at myself, because they didn’t really look at all like diamonds. Then again, they weren’t pretending to be. I left them in and went about the rest of my day. I moved the last of the fire wood to the back fence and swept the porch to make way for the worn lawn chairs that have sat out there each of the years I cared for my mom.
Later, while washing my hands in the bathroom, I happened to glance at myself in the mirror. Not only were my eyes burning brightly, more importantly, they had finally become part of a familiar face.
I may not be totally myself yet, but at least my twinkle has returned.