When I was 16 my mother passed away. Less than a month later my maternal grandmother also passed away. To say that this was hard would be an understatement considering that my paternal grandmother had already passed away earlier in the year. I went from having three exceptionally strong women watching my back to feeling all alone in the space of a six months. I was angry and hurt must of all I just wanted something of them I could hold on too.
My mother had a houseful of thing that were packed up and moved into my grandmothers basement with the idea that once I was of an age to live on my own and had some place to put them then I could come and get them. Even after my grandmother passed on my great grandmother and great aunt remained in the house.
I went off to college then moved to Colorado always remembering my mothers things but not really having the financial resources to move a house of stuff 800 plus miles. It also helped that I didn't have a house to put it in; a one bedroom apartment sure but not a house. So it stayed in that basement.
Then my great grandmother passed away as well. It had been years since the losses of my mother and grandmothers and although hard it wasn't as bad as before. We all came back for the funeral and then went back home to our respective houses. Not once did I think to take anything from that house.
I don't remember when but some time later I learned that my uncle had sold the house and when I did my heart burst in my chest. All those things of my mother were now gone. I had missed my opportunity to have something of her to cherish and hopefully one day pass on to my children. It was all gone.
I mourned for her and the loss again but eventually moved on. It was just things and they could no more bring my mother back then I could. Besides I still had the memories. Then one day, after I had moved countless more times through two more states, I was getting ready for a fancy dinner party and looking through my jewelry case when I picked up a pair of diamond earrings. As soon as I saw them I immediately remembered watch my mother put them in every Sunday before church.
Somehow and at some point I had taken those earrings and they had survived all the moves, the loses and my own repressed memory. They were there in my hand. Something I could remember her by and something that I could pass on. Yes I still had her piano but those eventually die. Diamonds as they say last forever and as I put them into my ears, dried my tears and looked into the mirror I realized that so did the memory of my mom.