Created July 7, 2017 The Watch, The Robe and The Ring

Saw a movie once where the man says to the woman, “If your apartment was on fire, what is the one thing you would grab?” I’ve thought about this question on more than one occasion and the answer is always the same: my dive watch. I’ve got oil paintings and jewelry and mink coats, but I’d go for the watch. It’s the one I’ve worn for 28 years, the same age as my son, which is only natural as it was given to me by his father because the new baby was a boy. I had specifically planned for a boy as we already had a little girl. I said, “Good day for a son!”, as I pulled my husband into bed. So, watch it is and always shall be.

I’ve not been very feminine from the get, but now and then I want to feel beautiful. I’d been told that I am beautiful by my first boyfriend, "J", and by a sweet stranger on a bus. Parents don’t count. I cannot recall my Ex ever saying those words to me. I do remember in detail the two occasions when he had said kind and complimentary words, but not ever that he thought me beautiful. Recently, with my advancing age, I want to capture that feeling.

“Clothes Make the Man”, as Henri Duvernois so eloquently demonstrated in his short story by the same name. To me, a silky robe was the answer to making me beautiful, at least in my mind’s eye. My new robe is definitely not silk but has the feel. It is opaque white, floor length, with a bit of nice embroidery trailing down from the shoulders. Still has the tags on it, although I’ve been wearing it, to see if these clothes do make the tom-boy feel like a woman. I think I can safely say that Henri Duvernois was right.

I’ve always been drawn to rubies. I wear no other stone, although there will be two other stones – likely diamonds – in the pendant Supernova 1987A. My ex gave me years ago a gold ring with a stunning 3 carat ruby. It has never left my finger from that day to this. I do regret, on occasion, my sale of a ruby and diamond bracelet in the midst of a post-divorce panic; however, I rarely wear bracelets and it was guilt-jewelry anyway, given to me during the years of the affair that broke our marriage. But this ring may not come off even after I am dead. I may wish to be buried with it properly in place, forever on my finger.

For years now, I have wished for a ring for the middle finger of my left hand. A wide band made of hammered gold. Off I went yesterday to Bruce Jewelers in my local town to see if they would be willing to let me trade in jewelry that is never worn for such a ring. Unlike chain or department stores, they were happy to accommodate. In the end, this ring cost me nothing.

It is absurd that I had ever bought and will likely continue to buy such things as paintings, fur coats and jewelry, especially so as I have already indulged myself with an indoor arena, hay barn, and the constant grooming of the private park where the house I designed and built resides. My kids don’t like “things”. Where my heirlooms will go after my death is a constant worry.

There is no one to tell me I’m beautiful or to give me that which I desire, and in all probability never will be. I must do all that for myself and not feel guilty about it. After all,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!