A Talisman

I resumed unpacking last week and came across one of the boxes containing photo albums.  The particular albums I uncovered dated from a few of the years we traveled extensively and it was nice to go through them and remember all the good times we shared.  At the time I found the box, we were experiencing a particularly rough week at home.  G was not walking, or functioning very well and he required more help and even feeding at the table.  I wasn't really ready for all of this and the gift of the photo albums came at the right time, when I needed to remember how things had been.  Most of our photos were of places and things.  G was the primary photographer, and he was much more interested in scenery or architecture than he was in pictures of people. As I look back on those photos now, I who was never really focused on the pictures when we travelled, still recognize the places, and can recall the associated feelings, memories and conversations.  The albums are just another reminder of the many ways in which we formed such a good partnership.

This week however G is much better, much brighter, with a sparkle in his eye I haven't seen for a long time, much more reminiscent of the way he was here, in this photo taken outside Steiner's Tavern in Sonoma quite a few years ago.

That same summer we made a routine stop into one of my favorite yarn stops, Colorful Stitches, in Lennox Massachusetts. We had been there many times before, and G usually looked forward to wandering through the shop and looking at the yarns.  He was particularly fond of Colorful Stitches, because they had a good selection of high quality yarns and many European fashion yarns, which he would encourage me to buy so he could take them to show his mother, who had been co-founder of Unger Yarns, and who was no longer able to travel or knit, although she still enjoyed looking at yarn and following my knitting projects. G would reminisce about the company employees and the summer(s) he spent worked in the Unger stockroom, and he obviously absorbed quite a bit about fiber and fabric from both his mother and  Mr. Unger, who had been a master tailor before he had been forced to leave Vienna.   I still credit G as the source of most of my knowledge about fiber, hand, and drape, and watching him shop for fabric, talk to salespeople, and compare goods was always fascinating.

But my mind is wandering.  

G spent a fair amount of time with the button vendor that day, poring over the cards and displays, putting a few sheets aside, and sending me off to buy yarn for a sweater or two while negotiated his own purchase.  A couple of months later, he presented me with his purchase, which had been converted into a necklace by our local jeweler.

The  jeweler placed two loops on the back, to which two hooks attach, on either end of an oxidized silver chain.  The pendant can also be worn as a brooch, but I much prefer wearing it as a pendant.  It works well under shirts and open blouses, which is how I prefer to wear it, as one of the hooks, the one that is open in the above photo is a little looser than the other, and occasionally comes disconnected.  Usually when this happens, the pendant just hangs a little askew and I tend to say that I can easily come a little unhinged as well, but we both pull ourselves back together easily enough. If it were tighter it would be difficult to fasten, and it never has actually fallen off.  I suppose console myself with the thought that, should it actually fall, I might feel it if it fell inside a blouse, whereas over a tee, it might bounce away before I even noticed.  

The pendant is a personal memento of better times, times when we explored the world together.  G always wanted to protect me and take care of me.  When I wear his lion, I feel like all the good memories are right there, enveloping me and protecting me.