the jewelry box

My mom had a jewelry box that I fondly recall as a little girl. It was at least a foot across and gold. It had all kind of compartments where pretty trinkets and baubles were stored. I don't think I noticed until yesterday I've created my own treasure box, since I don't wear much of what's in here. But looking at it anew brought more sweet memories to the surface.

I happened on the box at a community-wide garage sale in Navasota one year. Courtney came with me. At one place there was a relatively nice jewelry box, typical of what you find in the stores these days. Courtney wanted it and I happily let her snap it up. I didn't have that much stuff to put in it anyway. But just a few houses later, we came upon this one. For $5 I got a steal. Courtney admitted I'd found the better box. It's solid wood.

It didn't take long for me to discover I DID have plenty of stuff to put in it, squirreled away in different places over the years.

What I like best are the layers. Most frequently worn stuff at the top, but better treasures in the depths.

Underneath the earrings and bracelets is a tray for rings. Along the top are the special ones: my grandmother's diamond ring, my Master's ring, my high school class ring, a coin ring that always reminds me of Aunt Dot, and my first ring, the little sapphire flower one that mom bought me on my 15th birthday. I've had some luck finding turquoise rings and old Indian pawn at garage sales, so that little row is filling up, too.

Under the rings layer are 8 compartments, three filled with turquoise (sensing a trend?). The others, though, are the ones I would have loved to pick through as a kid. There's my mammammy's paste jewels I remember her wearing on special occasions. This is the only picture I can find of her in them. That's the bow of the present she's affixed to her top, but you can see the sparkly necklace behind it.

There are scads of old watches, some that just need new batteries. There's my secondhand store pin of the kitty staring into the mirrored toilet bowl. And in the far back right are the beaded turtles. The turtle as a totem represents longevity, endurance, and patience. Maybe I should wear them more often. . . The oldest of them adorned my Thanksgiving play in the first grade at Easthaven. Half of us were pilgrims (boring) and half were Indians (me!). My mom made me a headband that sported this turtle we'd bought the summer before in New Mexico on a necklace. I don't know if you can see him very well, but he's centered on my forehead here. (Dig that shirt collar!)

That turtle has been joined by three others from our trip back to Santa Fe when Sammi was 8 and we both had to have these silly tourist things again, for old time's sake. The smallest one is Native handmade. I bought him because he outshines these tacky mass produced ones by miles.

But it's at the depths of the box that the most memories are held. I could spend hours here, remembering. There are watch faces my dad's father wore. There is the little easel name tag "Victoria Saltsman" I wore to mom's painting shows when was 3 or 4. Pieces my mom wore, tiny jade pendants my MeMaw brought me back from her trips to Alaska, things I brought back from my trips to Europe, prom jewelry, high school and college mementos, Bob's dog tag I wore night and day while he was away, 5 and 10 year service pins and my faculty name tag from Blinn . . . the list goes on.

So yesterday when I was straightening up the box and rehanging the earring and bracelets carelessly thrown back in over the months, I stopped and remembered.

Then I took pictures. Because it will never look this good until the next time I clean it up ;)