Walking through Macy’s with my mother casually on a Saturday I had become jaded with trying to unearth the perfect shoes, handbag, or accessories; I had too much material possessions to begin with and I was only adding to the meaningless abundance with inconsequential things I had observed on this particular shopping trip – not having the heart to let my mom purchase them for me I just set them down and said “no, it’s fine; I don’t need it.” Her reply, “I’m just not used to my daughter putting things back and not wanting all the glittery things she sees.” I had been a high maintenance bitch for many of my teen years; if there was something I wanted and I couldn’t afford it on my own or save up for it appropriately I would talk the bank of Mom & Dad USA into it, commonly that worked. How foolish of me.
I seemed to be at a place in my life where things were turning around and life was starting to mean something completely different to me; I cherished each day I woke up with breath in my lungs and limbs able enough to pick me out of bed and carry me through my day; I started to be grateful for the small stuff, the true things that matter in life; the little things that we overlook when we have our mind set on, what we think are, bigger & better horizons, making a plan for ourselves that unfortunately has a timeline accompanying it.
Slowly drifting around the mall with my mom we passed a jewelry counter, she likes glittery shit, and as her and my stepdad’s 10th year anniversary approaches; she deserves it. She pointed out a ring she had been admiring and asked to try it on; while I secretly took notes in my head on size and item number so I could bring my stepfather, who has the present picking abilities equivalent to the Bush administration has country running abilities. I glance down the jewelry cases and notice how everything gleams; but one piece particularly stood out to me; an engagement ring.
My mom pushed a little to have me try it on, I had insisted that I didn’t want to I just thought it looked beautiful; needless to say what Belinda wants; she gets, I ended up trying the piece on. It was magnificent; everything gleamed the way it should, the size of the only one left happened to be the perfect fit to my ring finger and I found it hard to take off. While my mom had the woman behind the counter write the item number and size down on a slip of paper I started to wonder in my head if the question was coming soon.
There was a man in my life, one I had been dating for 5 years, we knew we wanted to marry each other and the one stipulation with that was he simply had to ask the permission from my mother and eldest brother before he could do so. See I was that naive girl, having everything planned out on a timeline; I figured logically in my head that since we’d been dating 5 years that it was going to be happening any day now, that he would suddenly drop to one knee and ask me to be with him forever. Like the lifestyle I mentioned earlier; how foolish of me.
After a week had gone by with no big signs from him, I pulled my mom in private and asked her if he had mentioned anything; she could see the hope in my eyes and knew what I was talking about since I had filled her in on my prerequisites to taking my hand, she grabbed my hands, gave me a look only a mother can give while letting her child down and said, “no hunny, he hasn’t.” Almost half a year had past from that moment with my mother when I was feeling the strain of the distance and the stress on the relationship; I knew people that have only known one another for a year and were getting married; people all around us that we went to high school with were getting married. Why weren’t we?
Because it wasn’t right, plain and simple.
About a week ago my mom needed to find a fresh pair of shoes, I happily agreed to go along and be the judgment panel in hopes of steering her away from her favorite wardrobe color: black. We looked at shoes and found her a wonderful pair. Passing through that same mall in hopes of finding some rations to fill our stomachs, I unknowingly glanced over and saw that same jewelry counter; excused myself while my mother looked at brooch’s and peeked in to see that same beautiful ring sitting there. I had to laugh in this laugh now cry later situation suddenly realizing the huge difference less than a year has made; no longer seeking ‘the one’ or wanting to be married – I let the man of my dreams go because I couldn’t be what he wanted while he couldn’t be what I needed. So foolish we find happiness in karats and mirrored glass.