My mother gave me her wedding dress when I was ten years old. Note that I meant dress, not a gown. On her wedding day she shunned the traditional flowing gown and opted to wear a short-sleeved shift that showed her knees, a little veil that barely covered her head, and stilletos. When she dug it up from storage, it was taken apart at the seams, so I had a dressmaker sew them all back together as well as repace the faded beadwork. I never got to wear the dress, not even for an evening function, as my mother had an svelte, almost boyish figure in contrast to my curvier bottom-heavy contours. For many years, I've longed to wear that dress.
She also gave me a silver bracelet that had a heart-shaped charm, on the back of which were inscribed my parents' names. It was the first gift that my father gave her when they were still dating. I felt that the significance was far more valuable than the quality of the silver itself (it was the kind that needed polishing every so often).
From a deteriorating family picture frame, I saved the smaller oval-shaped metal frames that held the photos. I remember that they contained the pictures of my parents, my brother and me back in the early 70's. The gilt edges had become so faded that I decided I'd retouch them by spraying the color of polished brass. I felt that I'd need to look for pictures that came from that decade as well. Items this antiquated do not deserve photos that are captured from the present.
In one of my jewelry boxes are two sets of earrings owned by my grandmother. There was a story that one of the pairs was given by a Japanese ambassador. Another one was a pair of hook earrings with onyx beads that dangle from the ends. There was a set of pearl and silver earrings and a ring, fashioned into curled shapes by the jewelry maker. It was only after her passing away that I received them, after my aunts and my mom divided my grandmother's possessions. In addition, I claimed for my own keeping a string of peach-colored wooden beads, which might have been seeds originally. I imagine all of these accessories tucked away in her tall, mirrored double-door closet, the kind that, when opened, gave a mixed scent of sandalwood and moth balls.
I also keep a black starfish-shaped brooch that belonged to my mother. My brother found it while they were walking along the beach, back when he was a little boy. I am not certain that I had been born by then.
In a way, the tradition repeated as my own mother-in-law started to pass on to me items that were a part of her past: a set of silverware and china cups and saucers given to her as wedding presents, as well as a handsome set of necklace and bracelet made of handcrafted silver. She told me she had them in the 70's.
Some of those objects do not stir up any memories for me, yet somehow, I feel that the stories woven into each item are a part of my being.
