Pearls, Part II

It was almost exactly a year ago (Nov. 15, to be precise) that I wrote about pearls.  Jack was considering giving me a strand, and I hemmed and hawed.  Bottom line:  I didn't want to spend the money and I wasn't sure I would wear them, even though I've worn pearl earrings nearly everyday since I was sixteen.  I have a few other pairs of earring, but I always go back to the pearls.  To say I wouldn't like a strand of pearls is like saying someone loves a fancy little appetizer, but then would refuse to eat it as a main course.  Sure, sometimes there is too much of a good thing.  Other times, as Mae West said, "Too much of a good thing can be wonderful."

Jack was in Japan for twelve days, and he returned with a strand of pearls for me.  Pearls are the unofficial national jewel of Japan, so it was a fitting place to get something that nice.

And they are lovely, more lovely than I imagined.  I've never worn a strand of real pearls before.  I have a couple of decent fake strands, if there is such a thing.  These feel warm around my neck, as if they are absorbing my body heat and giving it back to me.  The care instructions for the pearls recommends keeping them in the box they came in, as it is covered in a chamois which prevents scratches.  There is silicon oil cloth to be used wipe them off after each wearing.  I am supposed to get them restrung once a year.

My guess that much of the cost that goes into the strand isn't so much that each individual pearl is so special, but rather that finding so many so perfectly round and so similar in size and color is the challenge.  I imagine the work of sorting through thousands of pearls to find those that match.  I suppose that is the hard part of much of life, whether it is starting a company and hiring people, or finding a life partner.  Finding things that complement and work well together is hard.  I wonder if  the matching and sorting is done by humans, or if this ancient craft has been taken over my machines?

Aside from bringing me back an very nice gift, Jack came back a changed man from this trip.  Unlike the trips he took in the spring, this one he came home looking forward to being home.  He was lonely, and missed me and the kids.  For the past year and half, I scoffed at the notion that absence makes the heart grow fonder.  Now I am beginning to think it might be true.

Or maybe the pearls changed him.  Maybe the act of picking something special that matched me made him realize what he came so close to losing.  After he gave them to me, he said, "I should have gotten for you a year ago.  Maybe we wouldn't have had to go through the past months of anguish if I had."