Monday June 15, 2009 
Monday June 15, 2009 When I was in Cleveland last week, my mom gave me her gold cuff bracelet. For a bracelet that is easily 50 years old, its elegant clean lines make it as contemporary a piece as you could hope to find in the stores today. But it’s the bracelet’s lineage that makes it precious to me.
First and foremost, I watched my mom wear this bracelet as I was growing up. It’s not so fancy that it can only go to grand occasions – rather, its classic lines made it appropriate for dinner out, bridge with the girls, and our school functions. And she wore it to all of those plus more.
Second, my grandparents gave it to her as a gift when she was a young woman. My grandfather had an eye for beautiful things and I see his hand in selecting this particular piece.
Third, the bracelet is not perfect. Although my mom tried to get the bracelet repaired, there’s no hiding the tooth marks of a certain poorly behaved miniature schnauzer who shared our home for 15 years – and who had a penchant for getting in trouble. Big trouble.
Finally, my mom gave it to me because she can no longer wear it. Her illness has cost her a lot of weight, and the bracelet just hangs on her thin wrist. She passed it onto me so that I could enjoy it next.
Mother, grandparents, childhood dog – this bracelet is irreplaceable because of all the memories it contains.
My family is in a period of great transition these days. The joy of our first grandchild, the sadness of my mom’s cancer returning, and Thursday night, the passing of my husband’s mother. I’m in the UK now, and I find spending this time with my daughter and grandson to be a great comfort.
I’m more aware than ever of the importance of building memories, of making deep connections. As I rose at 5:30 this morning to pick up a restless Lucas so his mom could grab some sleep, I thought how fortunate I am to have this opportunity. Watching him kick his little legs, changing his diaper, cuddling him close to my chest and rocking him back to sleep – these are memories I’ll always have.
Before I left for London, Scott and I were enjoying our Sunday afternoon ritual of doing the crossword puzzle in the hot tub, having a glass of wine and just getting caught up with each other. I mused out loud about how painful it was for us both to be losing our mothers, and Scott quietly reminded me that this is how the circle of life works – the old pass on so that the Lucas’s have a place in this world and in our hearts.
Posted by terrymckenzie ( Jun 15 2009, 08:00:00 AM PDT ) Permalink Comments [2]
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Terry...I attended one of your sessions on social media in Chicago a couple years back. I also sent you a follow up question for a presentation I was giving to colleagues. Although I live in southeastern Washington State now, I spent seven years as a reporter in Butte, MT, and today was looking at the Butte paper's website (I check it out every so often) and came across an obituary for Barbara McKenzie...In the survivors I noted "Terry McKenzie" in California...wondered what the chances were...and then went to your site where I read about your mother-in-law's recent passing. Not sure why I'm writing this, except to say it is a small world--I'm constantly amazed by the connections. Now, if I've made a big leap and am wrong on this, my apologies. Regardless, please accept my condolences and good thoughts as you navigate this tough time.
Tim Ledbetter
Benton City, WA
Posted by Tim Ledbetter on June 16, 2009 at 01:31 PM PDT #
What a small world it is, Tim. Yes, Barbara is (was) my mother-in-law. She was a lovely, bright woman who raised a lovely, bright son whom I was lucky enough to marry. And I am in awe that you put the pieces together. In awe...
Thank you for your good wishes, Tim....
Posted by 90.199.76.27 on June 16, 2009 at 02:24 PM PDT #