There's Strength in the Simple...

I arrived home last night to an empty house. While it's always a bit sad at first, when I walk by our wall of pictures, I'm reminded of how "full" our house is-- even when my husband is away. And away he is. He will be gone every Tuesday-Friday for the next 14 weeks. It's just Avery and I, and this year, a new house full of boxes. And if I even for a moment begin to feel sorry for myself (which I inevitably begin to at times-- I'm only human and I'm REALLY tired these days), I think of all the strong women who are single mothers or who have husbands that are gone for months serving our country. Tuesday through Friday doesn't seem so bad.

I also arrived home last night to a surprise in my mailbox. Our mail has been a bit sparse lately while the post office continues to process our forwarding request. So when I saw the padded envelope from Kari, I was thrilled! Av and I went inside and we immediately opened it up.

She asked nicely, so I let her try it on...

And in that moment, I was struck by how amazing it was that this special necklace was about to embark upon such a unique journey. Strong women, who I have come to know and respect, would be opening that same package (well, maybe not the same, as I tore it from top to bottom in my eagerness to see the contents) and would be sharing bits of themselves as they wore it for just a couple days. And it reminded me of the special pieces of jewelry the women in my family have passed down through the years and the journeys those items have made.

When my grandmother (a widower and eternal optimist) first learned she had cancer, my mom and I bought her this cross necklace:

She wore through all of her chemo treatments and each doctor's appointment, including the one where they told her there was nothing else they could do. I wore it to her funeral, and it continues to be one of my most meaningful possessions.

When I went through my divorce, I was so emotionally (and physically) drained that I didn't know how I was going to re-start my life. At 29, I had walked away (for good reason) from seven years of people, places and memories. My mom (a wicked strong single mother) was on the first plane to Connecticut to hold my hand and support me through it. And she did it without saying "I told you so" about my choice of Husband #1.

One month later when I called her to tell her that just days after my kamikaze exit, I met this amazing new man and I thought sure he was "the one," she shared in my excitement, although was probably understandably weary of such a quick turnaround. Six months later when she visited and saw how happy I was, she took this off her finger and offered it to Ben (for when he was ready):

What was extra special is that my grandmother had also worn it. And, since this was NEVER offered to Husband #1, I knew my mom saw the strength in what Ben and I had found.

My jewelry box has many more little trinkets that make a quirky metal quilt of special moments in my life. The pin my brother bought me with his first bit of allowance. The earrings from my first boyfriend who said we'd never break up (which we did...the next week). My sorority letters on their delicate chain. Most, if not all, have no monetary value, but are the winning lottery ticket when it comes to sentimental value.

I know this necklace won't find a permanent home in my jewelry box, but having it for just a moment will be a story I share with Avery when I teach hew about the power of women. We've laughed. We've fought. We've supported each other at 3 am (and 4am, and 5am....). In a year, we've had divorces and experienced family deaths, we've grown both closer and respectfully apart, and still we find new ways to make each other smile. Honestly, it could be a piece of string with a bottle cap tied to it, and it would still be an honor to wear it.

It's only day one of its visit, and while nothing out of the ordinary has happened, it has certainly reminded me of my extraordinary blessings.

I hope, at the least, it does that for you too.