Wednesday, December 22  

Older

In some ways, Vic is still waiting to be "older".

old(er) adv 1. Having lived or existed for a relatively long time; far advanced in years or life. 2. Having or exhibiting the physical characteristics of age. 3. Having or exhibiting the wisdom of age; mature 4. Exhibiting the effects of time or long use; worn: an old coat.

When Vic was very young, she admired a set of ruby earrings and matching ring that her mother had stowed away in her jewellery chest. She found them tucked into a small white ring box beside the little container that held her baby teeth (her mother assured her that the Tooth Fairy had a deal with parents to return all teeth collected so the parents could cherish them forever and keep them stashed in a little box). Vic took the ruby earrings out of the box one day and with the ring loosely balanced around her big thumb, she asked her mother why she never wore them. Her mother replied "Because your great granny left them for you. They'll be yours to wear when you're older."

The word "older" had a deep, intriguing note. Older. How delicious.

Of course, Vic, being just a little girl, didn't altogether respect the word and decided the very next week that she was older enough and wore the ring to school, planning to put it back before her mother could know. As was bound to happen, Vic lost the ring, stressed about it for weeks and finally opted to say nothing at the time and hope that when it all came out she would be older enough to handle the consequences.

As if giving her a second chance, the year Vic turned 15 (half a lifetime ago) her parents gave her a very expensive ring. It was heavy and valuable, much too good for a teenager. The message implied seem to be "keep this safe so you'll have it when you're older." The present was, in a way, the responsibility of safeguarding a precious thing.

Schooled by her earlier disaster, Vic took this responsibility quite seriously. She put the ring away into her own jewellery chest and never, ever wore it. Over the years, she has moved her jewellery chest across provinces, into different apartments, new bedrooms, new lives.

She thinks of it for the first time in a long time today. The thought emerges like a recovered memory. She thinks of going to the jewellery chest and taking out the ring. Maybe putting it on. She is, after all, older now.

Still, she holds off a little. Ruminating over all the possible meanings of the word "older". Just to be sure.