Picture Box

The attic was a mess. I pulled box after box out of random items. Some things I recognized, and others just had a huge looming question mark over them. Why did mom and dad keep so many boxes? I opened one that contained old canning jars, empty, clean, except for a healthy layer of dust. Pushed that aside, may need that for.... something. Pulled out another box and opened the lid. Yearbook after yearbook sat lined up by year. Oh, this should be good, pictures of me and my brother with mismatched clothing, ball caps, missing teeth and later on, big hair and neon everything.  I sat down on the floor and pulled out the first book. I pushed the box away from me so I could sit cross legged and look through my k-5 yearbook. As I pushed the box a picture wrinkled and made an audible rumpling sound. I picked it up and turned it over to reveal a picture of my beautiful momma. Her hair just so, her clothes handmade but better than Macy's for sure, smile on her face and a set of pearls around her neck. She was perfect. I sat for a moment, eyes closed remembering her smell and laugh. I held the picture close and remembered.

Momma wasn't much for ceremony. She was however, gentle but strict, caring, but she could exact the most effective punishment known to man and not even bat an eye. She dressed to the 9's at 6 am and her hair was always just so. Every morning she would get up, make the bed, start breakfast, and pick out a dress from the closet; probably one she made or possibly one that she had gotten at the church sale. matching shoes, matching belt and of course one cannot forget that simple but effective crinoline. You know, the kind that pushed out the skirt just so, making your waist appear smaller and the fabric stand out just a little bit more. She always emerged from the bedroom like something from the movies. Gracefully gliding into the kitchen to pick out an apron to not only keep breakfast clear of her dress but an apron that would even match her dress. Her hair was perfect and even though not painted, her nails were the loveliest addition to her beautifully elegant fingers.

I sat at the table, chin resting on the palm of my hand. Dressed in my favorite pair of red jeans, patched holes in the knees, rolled at the bottom because they belonged to some else at some point in their life, who was always taller or older or both. My shirt was a simple button up collared shirt that Momma had made for me a few weeks ago. I had already worn a small hole at the hem where I was always angrily tucking it back in after having been told for the hundredth time, “Ladies do not walk around with untucked shirts.” I wound my finger around the little hole.

“Judith, get your hand o your face and sit up.” I hated that name. I liked Judy but mamma did not like shortening my name to a less “pretty” version.

She didn’t even turn around. she quickly stirred the grits, adding in cheese. My favorite. I moved my elbow o the table, sitting up I straightened my shirt and tried to look at least a little presentable. My brother was late as usual and daddy had already left for work. Momma cooks two breakfasts, a special one for daddy because he leaves so early and then another for my brother and me. Just then, I heard him. I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily, He was the absolute bane of my existence sometimes. Andrew ran down the hall, ball cap already on ready to start the day. He hit the table chair so hard the whole table jerked and lurched forward. I grabbed my plate. “Gosh!” I yelled before I could even stop it from coming out. Andrew and I both looked up but Momma didn’t miss a beat. She turned with food in hand and addressed Andy this time.

“Andrew, you are inside a home, please act civilized.” She said as she placed the grits on the table. All I could do was look at those yellow, cheesy, steaming grits. “Yes ma'am.” Andy said as he pulled his cap from his head revealing a rather messy, possibly even greasy hair.

Momma sat in her seat, straight and tall. Today was Valentine’s Day. When her and daddy were dating, he gave her a small red heart pendant. Today, almost 30 years later she still proudly wore her tiny pendant. She only wore it on Valentines’ Day. It was a signal to the rest of us that today was..... something. I didn’t understand anything but those cute little cards and candy. Other than that, it was strange. Mama always made sure we had Valentines and a few pieces of candy to pass out to our friends at school. I turned and looked at the back door to see if our little brown bag of valentine’s was by the door. They were there, like they were every year, neatly folded and the corner creased to keep it closed. I couldn’t wait to get in that bag. Andy looked at the little brown bags and his lip turned up. He mouthed “Gross.”

I looked over at mama’s little heart pendant. It was so pretty, red and bright. It shone on her skin, and I caught myself smiling. mama noticed and smiled back warmly. My red jeans were my one and only contribution to the holiday.  Momma had been eyeing the newspapers advertisements of a real saltwater pearl necklace. For just 5 payments of $10 you could own a real, genuine pearl necklace, the advertisement read. I knew she wanted it but I also knew Andy needed his braces fixed and I.... well I needed that new dance costume for my lessons. i would happily give that up though. Hated dancing and all the frilly ruffles that went with it.

“Judith, Andrew. eat quickly.” Momma said. “Mrs. Hartwell will be here in the next few minutes to pick you up for school.” just then we heard the familiar honk of the horn. I grabbed one last bit of those cheesy delicious grits and slid out of my chair. Both of us ran to kiss Momma on the cheek, yelled our, “I love you’s,” and headed out the door. I glanced back over my shoulder to see mama sipping her tea while looking at the opened newspaper.

School went quickly in some ways and drug on in others. I caught myself staring out the window at all the beautiful and fun things I was missing out there. After school was practice for Andy and of course, tap dance class for me. Bells rang, kids cheered and ran from place to place. the ground was littered with candy wrappers and pieces of envelopes from Valentine’s.  Before we knew it Andy and I were headed back home, exhausted and happy with our day.

The evening went as usual, baths for us and homework. by the time dinner rolled around my eyes were heavy and my stomach was feeling empty. the smells coming from the kitchen had me licking my lips and so distracted I could hardly finish my math homework, not that I was real likely to finish it anyway. I listened as Momma set the table. I rested my pencil down on my notebook thinking, she's probably going to call us any moment. nothing. I picked my pencil up and began to start another math problem. I heard her placing the utensils on the table. silence. I started the next problem. then I heard her walk back to the table and set something down. I

turned towards the bedroom door, just waiting. Still nothing. for what seemed like an eternity I waited for dinner. Finally, she called, and I almost jumped straight out of my desk chair.

Andy and I pushed each other down the hall trying to be the first to the table. We hit the table and slid into our chairs looking up at each other to both gain the satisfaction of being the first at the table.

Momma was still at the stove cleaning up the burners when daddy walked in. he was carrying something in his hand, in a little red velvet box. Andy and I looked at each other. Daddy placed a finger on his mouth and said “shhhhh” then placed the box on mamma’s plate. I looked up with huge eyes, pressed my lips together to keep in a gasp. Daddy sat own at the head of the table and placed his hands on the table. Mamma spun around looking more beautiful than she had in the morning, little red pendant glistening. I watched her every move as she approached the table. I didn’t want to miss a thing. She had a questioning look on her face when she saw the box which quickly turned to a look of surprise and excitement. “What is this?” She said as she slipped into her chair and placed a hand on the little box. Daddy smiled and said, “well open it and find out.” I giggled quietly holding a hand to my face and Andy was completely clueless. His eyes were fixed on the dinner rolls.

Momma held the box up for a moment and glanced around to all of us. She smiled and sighed excitedly. She opened the box and her eyes became wide. I could hardly stand it; I jumped up and moved over to her looking over her hand at the most beautiful set of saltwater pearls that I have ever seen. Not that I had actually seen any up till now but those were perfect. Each little pearl was the shiny and had a bit of an iridescent look.

Daddy stood up and pulled the pearls from the box, unclasping them he placed them on her neck. He quietly sat back down and reached out a hand to hold hers. Momma placed her hand on the pearls and gently touched them. I could see a little something glistening in the corner of her eye.

I held that beautiful picture of momma in my hands, tears streaming down my face. She insisted she get a picture taken with those pearls to remember the day and I am so glad she did.

Valentine’s Day has always been just another day for me so far as a holiday goes, but when I hear people say “Happy Valentine’s Day” I think about those pearls momma wanted and the beautiful love that her and Daddy shared.