Here’s How the Smallest Sentiments Appear in our Lives when we Need Them the Most
My mornings always feel rushed and crazy and I know a lot of it stems from my anxiety. This week, I was up, dressed and ready to tackle my hair to look nice for in office client meetings. There was only one problem – I couldn't find a bobby pin.
“How?!”. I asked myself. I have a basket on my bathroom counter that is the keeper of all things hair related. When you have this much hair, it requires complete organizational dedication to find your shit in the morning, get it going and leave for work.
Except, there was still the burning issue of I couldn’t find a damn bobby pin anywhere. I dug and dug through the mentioned basket of all things cheveaux, desperately trying to locate just one bobby pin for my hair. Nada. Empty. No dice.
There was no way I had time to undo everything I had done, straighten my hair, brush it out and figure something out because the clock was ticking and I am suddenly the white rabbit in a Lewis Carroll novel, all thanks to my bestie, high functioning anxiety.
I was really frustrated because I knew that I had at least a pack of 200. Why couldn’t I just find one right now? I really need to go!
And, something in my peripheral vision glimmered off to the side of my line of vision. I saw it, lying there, all tucked away unexpectedly in the jewelry box that once belonged to her. The woman who raised me.
I looked over, grabbed it and smiled. It was a gift. A reminder to take a second and appreciate the little things because they really are the big things.
As a kid, I was always playing in my grandmother’s makeup and jewelry. I loved trying on her earrings and wearing her necklaces and covering myself in vanishing cream and scented powders that could only be applied with a sultry white powderpuff. Funny how that has never changed.
Before my grandmother passed away, I asked her for her jewelry box. Not because I gave two shits about any type of heirloom piece. I wanted it because it always reminds me of her and I feel like a part of her is still with me, when I open it up and find joy in the small cosmetic staple pieces that were hers.
That jewelry box has been hiding a secret for many years. It has contained a single bobby pin that I desperately needed, right when I needed it most. This bobby pin was different and unique. Not just because it was hers, but it was distinctly smaller in size than my own and a much lighter color than my own. This bobby pin is a treasure that was meant for me to find this week and just remember.
I pulled my bangs up and pinned them back, creating a sort of quaff style with a single golden and small bobby pin. I couldn’t have been happier with my tiny secret reminder of her near me.
When the workday was over and it was time for bed, I removed that little piece of Heaven and put it ever so softly back in the jewelry box, right where I found it, but not without smiling, getting a little misty eyed thinking about her, and feeling grateful for so many things all at once.
