My parents are gone, but I still have their things. A plate, a chair, a matchbook, a sweater, an old cell phone. Something of them lives on in this stuff. Send a picture of an object and tell me what it does to you and how it makes you feel about your mom and dad, dead or alive. Then go clean up your room. Thank you
My mother kept her jewelry in a turquoise Avon cold-cream jar in her dresser, believing that thieves—should any find their way to her suburban ranch house—would never think to look inside.
I’ve kept the jar, along with most of Mom’s costume jewelry. Some of it I wear. Other pieces—
things I remember her wearing when I was a little girl—I’ve laid out on my bureau in a kind of Altar of Mom.
My favorite item is a novelty Coro bracelet. Within a horseshoe-shaped mounting sits a disc engraved with the letters L V Y U on one side and O O and a backwards “E” on the other. When you spin the disc, the optical illusion comes together and the bracelet flashes “I LOVE YOU.”
I used to spin that disc over and over when I was a kid, I love you, I love you, into infinity—constant affirmation, I suppose, of my mother’s love.