Replacing what was lost

Katie D.

September 16, 2011 - 7:40 PM

As I described in this blog (http://isupportuoregon.org/my_duckstory/blog/katie_d/the_good_the_bad_and_the_ugly_on_the_road), I was robbed this summer in Nicaragua, on my way to my internship in Honduras. Combined with the other intense and difficult aspects of this summer's internship and research, this has meant I've needed to do some recovering in many ways. In many ways it's been a hard process, particularly when it's come to replacing some key items in my life. But there have been some great things that have happened as well.

One is that I am writing this blog on a brand-new computer. I've finally given in to the UO culture and purchased a mac. I love it. I'm still learning now to navigate this "intuitive" system, but it is a far superior machine to my old computer. It is going to be a joy to write my thesis on this computer.

Another wonderful story arises from soemthing that has felt like a tragedy from this summer. When I was robbed, they took all my jewelry I had with me. And, by a sad mistake, I had accidentally packed both the bag of jewelry I intended for the summer, AND the bag I had meant to pack into my storage unit. So except for a things I had left at home in Colorado, I lost all of my jewelry this summer. I blogged two years ago about my different pieces I've collected over the years, and why they were special to me. I had purchased jewelry during all my travels, and had many strong and happy memories attatched to those earrings, necklaces, and rings. On one hand, there was nothing of enormous monetary value in my collection. On the other hand, there was enormous sentiment connected with that jewelry.

So that's the sad part. Here's the beautiful story, though: my aunt Michele felt sorry for me, and said she would send me a few old pieces of jewelry to restart my collection. This was such a nice idea, and made me happy just by her offering. But she sent me the most beautiful and touching package in the mail. In fact, it was my first piece of mail received at my new apartment.

My aunt Mish sent me jewelry with stories. She individually wrapped the pieces, and included little notes to describe what they were, and where they came from. Thus, I know that a beautiful pair of inlayed silver earrings were origionally purchased in Mexico, when Mish was about my age. I have funny, brightly colored fish earrings she labeled as "Mish Fish." I have pink earrings that reminded her of our shopping trip together before I started high school. And I have a beautiful bracelet from Belize, with a note mentioning how glad she was that she could send something from a place I've also visited.

Now, at this point, I am already crying a bit, with tissue paper scattered everywhere, and a growing pile of jewelry laid out in front of me. I've carefully unfolded all these notes, and have gathered up these stories to go with my new earrings and necklaces. But here comes the really miraculous part.

I open a pair of earrings, with a note that says "your family bought these for me on your Ireland trip. I love them, but until you can go back to get me replacements, they're yours." Then, in the last packet, a pair of blue lapis lazuli earrings I had bought for her in Chile.

I cannot replace the things that I loved, and the memories attatched. I cannot get back the lapis earrings my Chilean host family gave me as a gift when I left Valdivia. But I have these beautiful gifts to hold their place in my life and my days.

And I have the constant and beautiful reminder of love and compassion from my aunt Mish. What a perfect gift.