Coke Cans, Costume Jewelry, and a Gentle Ache Called Love
Today I was doing something ridiculously ordinary—cleaning jewelry. You know, that kind of task that falls squarely in the “meh” category. Repetitive, a little boring, and usually accompanied by a mild internal tantrum about why I even own so many tangled chains in the first place.
But somewhere between the suds and the shine, my mind drifted—right back to my childhood. To my “PaPa.”
There I was again, a little girl perched at the kitchen counter, watching with wide eyes as my PaPa brought my dirt-caked, play-worn costume jewelry back to life. To me, he was a magician. Those plastic gemstones? Transformed under his touch. My glittery mood ring? Restored to its former (questionably accurate) glory.
He’d always crack open a can of Coke for me like it was a sacred ritual. And he insisted on opening it himself. “Girls have to keep their nails looking pretty,” he’d say with a wink—never mind the fact that my hands were probably covered in mud from digging up “dinosaur bones” or the latest “pirate treasure” in the backyard just minutes earlier.
Pretty was a state of mind, thank you very much.
The Ordinary Moments That Become the Most Treasured
I was lucky-I didn’t just have grandparents; I had grandpeople. The full set. Two pairs and even a great-grandmother, all nearby, all fully woven into the tapestry of my childhood. Some folks have to settle for long-distance phone calls or annual visits (or no contact at all), and I never take for granted the treasure of having had them right there—at every birthday, every scraped knee, every random Tuesday when I just wanted a grilled cheese and a hug.
They taught me so much—not just through words, but through their presence, their kindness, their quirky little traditions that live rent-free in my heart to this day.
Grief With Glitter
It’s strange how love and loss exist in the same space. One moment I’m giggling at the memory of PaPa polishing my fake ruby ring with the same care as if it were a crown jewel, and the next, I’m blinking back tears because I’d give just about anything to sit with him again in that cute little kitchen.
Grief doesn’t really go away. It just softens into a quieter ache, one you carry with you like a well-loved photograph—folded, a little faded, but always there. And sometimes, when you least expect it, a smell, a song, or yes, even a soapy bracelet, will transport you straight back into that love again.
Today’s Reminder: Time Travel is Real (Sort Of)
Today, in the middle of my modern grown-up to-do list, I took a little trip. No passport needed. Just a memory, a Coke can, and a heart full of gratitude.
If you’re lucky enough to have grandparents or extended family still around, call them. Visit them. Let them open your soda even if you’re perfectly capable—just for the memory.
And if you’re like me, missing them deeply, I hope you let yourself smile, cry, and remember it all. Because those tiny moments? They’re the real treasure.
So here’s to the sparkle—not just in our jewelry, but in our memories. 💖
💋✨Until next time, keep shining, loving & living your best life!
Wishing you Love, Light & Sparkles!
🌸 Carrie
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