Life is a Highway….

Every year, my mother sends me some piece of jewelry for my birthday and Christmas.  It’s typically been purchased from a Kohls or JCPenny and has some quote etched into it….something like, “Always my daughter, forever my friend.”  

It might be sweet if we were actually friends.  The thing is, I haven’t spoken with my mother in nearly ten years.  Read anything I’ve written here….Tales From the Dysfunctional Crypt….if you would like to know why.

I never keep anything she sends me.  Normally, I add it to a donate pile and eventually drop it off at a Salvation Army or Goodwill.

A few years ago though, she sent me a bracelet that I actually kind of liked.  It arrived wrapped in tissue paper and resting in a small, velour, drawstring bag….instead of a cardboard display box with the price tag affixed to the bottom.

It was kind of quirky, but interesting.  It was clearly handmade and looked like the kind of piece you might find at an Art Fair or on ETSY.  It had small, multi-colored stones strung together tightly with silver beads mixed in at intervals and a sterling silver hook-and-eye clasp.

For a long time, I stashed it in my jewelry box….too afraid of the bad juju it might hold to wear it….but today, as I was looking for a bracelet to wear with a favorite sweater of mine, I saw it and thought it was the perfect match.

About an hour into my day though, the clasp caught on my knit sweater as I was zipping my pants after using the restroom….and though I tried desperately and gently to free it….it only seemed to get worse.

Eventually, I gave up and thought it might not be so bad if I just clipped the four, thin threads that were trapped around the clasp with a pair of sewing scissors.

I was finally free, but now there was a small, but noticeable hole, in one of my favorite sweaters.

If that isn’t a metaphor for some shit….I don’t know what is.

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