The Necklace (My Personal Memoir)

All is ready. I am wearing a cute yellow Sunday dress match with two ribbons of the same color in my hair, a pair of small garnet earrings, white doll shoes and long white socks. The kitchen set birthday present is beautifully wrapped in pink and my Hello Kitty hankie place neatly in my pocket. My mom finally puts some Angel’s breath cologne all over me—my cologne since birth.

I’m very excited because my friend invited me to come over to her birthday party. I’m really crazy about the parlor games, ice cream, clowns and giveaways. I want to be one of the beautiful girls in the party. I am about to go to my friend’s house in front of ours when suddenly I remember my gold necklace with a letter J pendant. I want to wear it, to complete my getup. I give my mom a pitiful look and ask if I can wear it. She is hesitant because she thinks that I might loose the necklace. That was my father’s gift to me when he came back from the Middle East. I insist and promise to be very careful, it’s her weakness. Before I leave, she kisses me and says “have a wonderful time!”

Although the party is far from what I imagined—they do not have ice cream but gelatin and there are magicians instead of clowns— it is fun because my playmates are all there and we enjoy playing until the party is over. I’m happy with two plastic of giveaways and two blue balloons, one for me and the other is for my baby sister.

I hurriedly run back home because I’ll tell my mom about my escapades during the party. I open the main door and walk straight to my mother’s room. I find my mom fixing something and kiss her. I am about to change clothes when I touch my neck and realize that the necklace is lost.

I am shocked I don’t know what to do, and I start to sob. “Honey what’s wrong?” mom asks me. I know for sure that she will really get mad at me and, she’ll spank me hard. I am ready for that; “Mommy, I lost the necklace,” I cry. I expect to hear her familiar scream. Then I lay on the bed crying. But what happens is the least I expect.

The minute she heard what I said, my mom hurled her mirror unto me. It broke into pieces. She got hysterical. But I can’t barely hear her and understand what she was telling at me. I’m shocked, her rage makes me tremble with fear, and my whole body is numb.

I cry until night time, “How did she do that to me?” I ask to myself. I hate her and I want to leave our house immediately. Then it happens, my mom walks inside the room and sits behind me. I know it’s my mom, I can tell because of her familiar scent. She treats the scratches in my leg; she cleans and kisses the wounds. I look at her with teary eyes then she hugs me tight. That act tells me everything that is needed to be said. My anger and fear are all washed away. All I can feel is guilt and overflowing love and respect for her.

This is one of my most memorable experiences I had with my mom. Moments that I’ll forever cherish because these are not only about what my mom did and what I felt, but this kind of experience makes my relationship with my mom stronger and more passionate.

I’ll continue to savor each day my mom scolds me. I’ll miss that. I know she won’t be forever that strong, but I want to be always beside her even if the day will come that she can’t remember what my name is.