the teacher is like the candle, which lights others in consuming itself

Anklets are very special…particularly to an Italian girl from New York, oh yea, and New Jersey too. It’s innate for us to wanna rock large gold hoop earrings, a chain necklace, a ring with our name on it, and an anklet…a rite of passage that has been brought down to us by our grandmothers, mothers, aunts, and cousins. There is something so subtle yet so sexy in the way the jewelry moulds to your ankle and dangles over the talus bone just so.

I hadn’t worn one yet this year and I began to miss, so I racked my brain for the new essential and searched, and talked, and dreamt of how utterly perfect it could be…and then I saw Aunt Candy…

…five days later, a package arrived in my mailbox via United Parcel Service from my Aunt, that when opened, housed a gold figaro anklet that was once hers with a note:

‘Enjoy the ankle bracelet given to you with all my Love-you are beautiful inside and out.’

(clearly, tear-worthy)

It had become too large for her pettite frame due to years of wear and tear. This was her gift to me; my new appendage carrying with it years of life of someone I love and respect so much…but it is more than just a rite of passage. It simply, sensuously and ever-so loudly screams this. I kid, I kid…

So what am I coveting next? A new necklace name plate for my alter ego. Wouldn’t “Tawny” just look so good in 2 carats worth of diamonds?

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