The Necklace

From the time I was little, I always admired my mom's pearl necklaces. She had two. One very simple, elegant one she received for high school graduation and the other a "shark tooth" one which alternated round pearls with misshapen ones that looked like teeth, hence the name. I liked the plain one the best. It was traditional and classic and in no way had anything to do with the movie "Jaws." (which I think may have inspired the "shark tooth" necklace trend, but I'm not sure). The necklace I loved had been a gift to mom from my great-aunt Lois who gave similar strands to my aunts and said it was a high school graduation tradition. Mom always promised me a pearl necklace when I graduated, and I looked forward to it for many years.

My Dad spent the majority of my childhood in graduate school, getting his first "real" job when I was thirteen. Most of my teenage years were spent living thriftily while Dad paid back student loans, credit cards, and residual hospital bills from the unexpected birth of my much younger sister Selena, who had been their "oops we didn't get student insurance this year" surprise. I didn't really mind because I never have been incredibly materialistic and I could usually babysit enough to buy what I wanted with my maternal grandmother and my favorite Uncle Bob making up the difference. My mom minded incredibly that we had very little. She was raised with money and a maid and never really did adjust to the lesser circumstances. She was often frustrated and usually took it out on me because I was older and I guess she thought I could 'deal with it.' As the years went on, I spent as much time at the homes of friends and boyfriends as I possibly could, just to avoid the unpleasantness. She seemed to blame me for her unhappiness and no amount of good grades or other model behavior I tried to exhibit was ever enough to please her. By the time I finished high school, the bills were paid and Dad had been promoted a few times. As I prepared for college, they shopped around for a bigger house in a nicer neighborhood just because they could.

The weekend before my high school graduation, my mom and my grandmother presented me with my gifts. All three boxes came from Brockhaus jewelers and I thought I knew what to expect. Considering the fact that I was dealing with my mother, I should have known better. The first box came from my grandmother, and was a charm bracelet. The second box contained several charms. I loved the bracelet, but never got to wear it. I will explain why in a minute. The third box seemed a little bigger than I thought it should be, but I still opened it expectantly. After all, she had been building up to this my whole life, and with grandma there she was almost certain to follow through. And she did. Sort of...

In that box was the tackiest fake pearl necklace I have ever laid eyes on then or now. It was so ugly that I felt tears in my eyes as I looked at it, and they weren't happy ones. I looked up at my mom and on her face was a gloating look of triumph. She had, indeed, given me the pearls and my grandmother could report that back to Aunt Lois. She had, however, picked something she knew would be a disappointment and she knew I didn't dare complain about it in front of my grandmother. She was right, I didn't. I thanked her as enthusiastically as I could, hid my disappointment from grandma, and tucked them into my jewelry box. I spent the rest of the week at my friend's house, helping her finish her sophomore English project, enjoying Senior week, and making space for Grandma to stay at my house. It wasn't until a few days later that I went home and mentioned to Mom as nicely as I could, that the triple strand necklace was a little fancier than what I would normally wear and that I was concerned she had been duped by the jeweler because they seemed fake. She told me she knew they were fake, but they had been expensive and that I was obviously ungrateful, as usual. Then, she took my charm bracelet and gave it to my "more deserving" youngest sister. I had intended to return home that evening, but instead I stayed the rest of the summer with my friend (bless her mother for keeping me). I as there until 'move-in' day at the dorms. In fact, part of the reason I signed up to go through sorority rush was so I could move into university housing two weeks early? (You know, that would make a really good question in the Trivial Pursuit game about my life.)

Anyway, time went on. Determined to be "grateful" I hung onto that stupid necklace for years. I never wore it, but I just couldn't get rid of it either. I thought maybe someday I would love it, and hoped someday mom would love me the way I wanted her to. Eventually, I gave up on that second hope. After graduating OU with a 3.5, I left the country for 18 months on an LDS mission. I was a 'good' missionary and I know my parents received letters home from my mission president complimenting my proficiency in the language, in my studies, and my appointment as a trainer to new missionaries just three months after arriving there myself. I think in some small way, I was still overachieving in an attempt to please my mom. I shouldn't have bothered. Days before I left, and days after I came home she made it clear to me that my sister Janet was the only child "of whom I am truly proud."

I came home from Italy on the same day as she did. I was 'returning with honor' from a full-time mission. She was a senior in high school bringing her second child home from the hospital. That night, I was given the room where both my sisters had crammed all the junk they didn't need. There was a bed in the corner and no floor space anywhere, just piles and piles of clothes, broken toys, and overflowing boxes. Welcome Home! I had to leave my suitcases downstairs and literally clear myself a path from the door to the bed. I begged my sister to move out with me and promised to help take care of the kids in exchange while she went to school. Instead, she dropped me off at the religion class I had enrolled in on campus and picked up Mom who rented her an apartment while I was out on the express condition she not share it with me. To add insult to injury, when she graduated high school a few months later, Mom gave her the prettiest simple strand of real pearls I had ever seen.

That was almost nine years ago, and I think I've come a long way since then. I completely gave up trying to please my mother when I defied her wishes and moved to Tucson for graduate school a few months after that sister's graduation. When I returned to Norman, I was married to Dave and pregnant with our first child. I made it clear to her we were no longer having a relationship solely based on her terms. Shortly after my oldest daughter was born, I threatened to cut her out of my life altogether. While I wouldn't call our relationship ideal, she has finally learned not to cross the boundaries I've set for her-usually. Last Christmas, she bought a Kitchen Aid stand mixer for my youngest sister and her new husband, and something equally fancy for my other sister. Dave and I got a small jewelry box as our joint gift and I got a really ugly bracelet to call my own. I smiled and said 'thanks' and two days later I took the awful thing to Gordon's Jewelers and traded it in for two pairs of earrings that I loved with no guilt at all. I declared myself 'cured.' But I've still always wanted that pearl necklace. I realize it's kind of silly, but I've always dreamed of one. I've mentioned it to my husband on a few occasions, but notwithstanding the many lovely pieces of jewelry he has gifted me with over the years, he never bought pearls.

Last week, JC Penney's advertised a pre-sale special with pearl necklaces for $29.99. I went to check them out, even though it felt a little decadent to buy a nice piece of jewelry for myself. The first set the salesgirl gave me was one of those stiff necklaces that hold their shape. I didn't like it and I thought to myself "that must explain the low price." Then she said, "We also have these," and handed me a strand of pearls much like the ones my mother had when I was little. "Do you like them?" she asked. With the matching earrings, they were $60 plus-tax. For the first time in my life, I had real pearls that were all mine. I'm sure they aren't high quality pearls, but I don't care. They are elegant, classic, and they make me feel beautiful. Since I purchased them, I have been making more of a point to dress up and fix my hair. When I have them on, I don't mind that my dressiest clothes come from Target (usually the clearance rack) and that I still need to lose about 20 lbs. of baby weight. I think the only reason I didn't wear them today was because I'm in the track pants and t-shirt ensemble that I prefer for weigh-in at Weight Watchers meetings. Rest assured, they will be back tomorrow with another nice outfit and a smile on my face. Dave commented that, had he known they would make me so happy, he would have bought them for me years ago. I appreciate the sentiment, but I think this was something I had to do for myself.

As for the old necklace, I tried to give it to my daughters for dress-up, but my three year-old deemed it "not vewy pwetty." I last saw it at the bottom of their dress-up clothes box. I hope they know they don't have to keep it.