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let's get this out of the way
August 07, 2014
SSIL is (in alphabetical order), a bitchy, bossy, grasping, greedy, ignorant, insecure, nasty, nosy, obtuse, over-bearing, pathetic, pushy, sneaky, snoopy, vicious, vindictive WITCH.
(And, sad to say, her daughter--my niece--is not any better.)
Not content to nudge my mother towards the grave when she wasn't dying fast enough to suit--she was ready to start stripping the house of everything before the poor woman was still breathing. And once my mom really did pass on, well...then she really got started.
Considering that my mom left everything to dad, and MY DAD IS STILL ALIVE AND STANDING RIGHT THERE, YOU INSENSITIVE DOLT...you would think that maybe--just maybe--she would catch a clue and stop trying to divvy up her stuff before the body was even sent to the crematorium.
Stupid cow. And the best/worst part is that she thinks she's so frigging subtle! Yeah, she's about as subtle as a hand grenade in your oatmeal. She had one trumped up excuse after another why she needed to go into mom's bedroom, bathroom, closet, purse...on and on. Between me and Spouse, Oldest Brother and GSIL, and even my dad(!), we kept a close watch on SSIL and my niece. Didn't let them get away with anything if we could help it.
My husband and GSIL were making bets on whether it would be me or my oldest brother who dropped her first.
And after she and her husband had headed back home, my dad went to his room, pulled a train case out of his closet, and brought it to the kitchen table. He looked at me, and explained that back in January, my mom went through all her jewelry, and picked out certain pieces that she wanted me to have, either to keep or to share. She put them all in this case, and gave them to Dad, telling him to hide them in his room, because they were for me to take charge of. And when she was gone, he was to give the case to me.
Well, how about that for a punch to the gut?
You know what? There are beautiful pieces, ugly pieces, cheap pieces, expensive pieces, old pieces, new pieces...but every one of them represents the bond I had with Mom. Through all the years of fighting and arguing and general hell with my mom, one thing was always true--we bonded over jewelry. When I was quite small, it was playing dress-up in her 1950s rhinestones; clip on earrings, choker necklace, and I would usually have her tiara on as well. (Yes, she had a tiara. She was some kind of 4-H queen when she was in high school.)
When I was a bigger girl, I would sit on my mom's bed on Saturday evenings. While she got all dressed up to go out, I would be messing around in her jewelry box. I would unpick the knots in her gold and silver chains, clean her rings, polish her bracelets, and straighten out her jewel case. That was always our "girl talk" time. She would pull out antique pieces and tell me about my Great-Grandma Daisy.
When I was a teenager, it was a great privilege to get to borrow pieces from her. 14k gold hoop earrings & a gold chain when I was being "preppy", or silver & turquoise to go with my "western look". Pearls for prom.
And I see all of that in the box. Her good pieces are there, but so are some of her fabulous fakes. Rogers & Holland, unique pieces picked up in her travels, and custom pieces my dad had designed and made for her--alongside Trifari, Koret, Avon, Walmart, Dollar General, Dollar Tree, and garage-sale finds.
Her stunning 30th Wedding anniversary (1985) diamond ring, and her modest Class of 1955 class ring. Her gorgeous sapphires, and my grandpa's plain gold wedding ring. Her mother's ring.
Natural pearls, cultured pearls, fake pearls.
Her Arizona fire agate ring, that Daddy had designed especially for her. The huge Mexican topaz that broke my nose when she stopped short in the car and flung her arm out to hold me back. The cocktail ring that is made out of the gold and diamonds of four wedding sets (2 of hers, 2 of her mother's).
Sparkly dimestore junk that we wore with Halloween costumes.
Memories.
Well, it's all getting cleaned, sorted, catalogued, bagged up, and popped into the safe deposit box. Eventually some of the pieces will be given to female members of the family as keepsakes. I already gave GSIL one of my mom's best gold chains, because she's a gold chain person, because she's a good person, (and because I don't want the redneck racetrack hillbillies sending it to Cash for Gold because "the race car needs new headers".)
Dad already gave Mom's good emerald ring to GSIL because she is wonderful and deserves it and she was born in May. (He left it up to me to pick out a "good ring" to give to SSIL. Hooray.)
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