PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My grandmother's earrings were the most splendid image of her one and only beauty. The recognition of her in any place at her hometown. I vividly remember my father talking about the day he bought those exotic pearl earrings in his journey through China, and that the moment he put an eye on them, he instantly knew they were his mother's already.

My kindly granda spent everyday with those pendants on her ears, not taking them off even while she slept. And during the day, everyone recognized the sound of them rubbing her rosy cheeks while she was on a hurry, or their gleam at the kitchen light after serving dinner for the whole family of 10. Their sound was another peculiarity, and not because of its tenderness but for the allusion of my grandma being present. The pearls colliding against each other were a marvelous melody in the house where my dad used to live so long ago. The splendidness of those earrings dangling from her ears created a harmonious aura around her. The thin metal details betweem the pearls, by hand and so perfectly merged, where the key element for making those earrings so special and linked to my granny's personality: gracious and softhearted. All the ones around her linked her good-natured attributes to her pearl pendants she carried everyday and for the rest of her days. There was a particular time of the day when she stayed at home while her kids were at school. Back then, she used to water the plants in the garden, listen to colonial music, or even recite harmoniously all kinds of verses and catholic poems about God. She looks smooth and gentle on every single picture of her doing her doings. And obviously, on each one of her, always exhibiting her pearl earrings.

I really did not meet her at all, but what made me keep her always alive were the so-told stories and anecdotes people who actually knew her, kept repeating. The exotic blackness of the pearls on her pendants contrasting with the whiteness of her skin was the real spectacle. Anyone could have diverse interpretations of black pearls, but those ones reflected my grandma's memory as the vivid and kind women she was. And the thing was that I did mot have to see those precious earrings as I already knew her benevolence and warmth traveling through my father's and aunt's veins.