The sterling silver bracelet that now sits on the table in front of me is also twenty years old, but it does not remember the world like I do. I’ve worn it no more than a dozen times (primarily weddings, funerals, and church events) and yet it remains as one of the most important pieces of my life-story.

The single silver chain, the spine of the bracelet if you will, is just about six inches long, and dips about one inch below my wrist when each end is clasped together. Branching off of that delicate spine are twenty-four, unevenly spaced, silver charms. Each charm (one for every year I’ve been alive, and four extra for ‘milestones’) tells a different story, some of which I remember, and others that have been passed down to me by my mother via the image on the charm. Looking first at the tiny clasp on the left end of the chain, and moving sequentially to the open hook eye on the right side, you’ll see a small purse, with one semi-circular strap and four rows of tiny inlaid diamonds. Then a 2-dimensional heart with the words “Sweet 16” cut out in the middle, followed by a 2-D “2000”. After that there is a racing bike, a musical eighth note, a hollow trolley with tiny red lettering on the top of the car that reads “San Francisco”, and a Scottish terrier standing alert with his shorthair tail sticking straight up.

Next, a graduation cap with the tassel switched over to the right side and the year “2012” right below the brim, a track shoe with four miniature spikes on the bottom of the sole, and right next to it a different pair of shoes; two baby booties, each with a single small pearl at the end (as if they were capped by fuzz-balls). Once again there is a 2-D heart, except this one is solid silver all the way through and has my initials carved in beautiful curving script, “CCR”.

Sitting directly three inches down the spine and taking the place of charm #12 is my favorite of them all; the “Happy Birthday” cake, decorated with icing all around its perimeter, and a hinge on the back which used to allow me to open the top of the cake. In the bottom of the hollow cake there was a tiny golden candle standing straight up. From what I remember, it had a spiral design going all the way up to the top, where there was a little golden flame waiting to be wished upon and blown out.

Next to the cake is a solid silver soccer ball, the Eiffel tower, a catholic cross, a 2-D laptop that says “You’ve Got Mail,”a two-person canoe, a ballerina in a tutu with her toes pointed in fifth position, a round medallion with a dog’s paw-print engraved on the surface, and a school bus that labels itself (just in case we didn’t recognize its iconic shape). Finally reaching the last inch of the spine, there is a nameless book with the number “12” engraved on the back, a ‘traditional’ artist’s pallet with a few specks of green and yellow paint left on the surface, a golden retriever (also standing alert, although his tail is much more relaxed than the terrier’s), and last but not least a simple 2-D scalloped shell.

According to my mother, each one of these charms is representative of a certain time or event in my life. She chose them every year, from the same jewelry store, to be given to me as a gift on the same day each April. The delicate silver chain was a timeline of my life, and every charm she purchased to adorn it has been a reminder of my accomplishments.

On the 22^nd of April, I would open the white & silver striped box from the jeweler and spend about five minutes turning the charm over and over in my hand, getting to know it’s beveled edges and thanking my mother for buying it. But as soon as I would set it down, she would take it back and tell me that she would bring the charm and the bracelet back to the jeweler so that they could be joined. I always watched as she slid the spine back into a plastic bag and dropped the charm in before she sealed it shut. I wouldn’t see it again until it came out of that bag the same time a year later.                                                                                 

Truthfully, this bracelet and each one of these purposely ‘special’ charms are nothing more than a reminder of how differently my mom and I remember the story of my life.

I do not remember ever liking Scottish terriers, or having any sort of party for my sixteenth birthday, or being allowed to use the family computer, let alone have an email account. I was downright terrible at singing, and my dad and I almost drowned on that canoe-trip that she chose not to go on.

I do remember, however, that I absolutely despised catholic church school as a child, and that I only ran track when I was thirteen because my mom told me I needed to get more exercise, and that my absolute favorite charm (the birthday cake) was glued shut when I tried to open it on my tenth birthday because she “didn’t want me to break the candle”.

I do remember trying to build memories with my mom that were heavier than this silver bracelet, and trying for years to prove to her that I was responsible enough to chose my own charm.

But for right now, I look at the bracelet for inspiration; it is a reminder to stand up straight, with a spine that was not designed by anyone else and to fill in the rest of my timeline with charms and accomplishments that are important to me.