Where's the Sparkle?

Motherhood is great.  I love being a mommy.  Love almost everything about it, but where's the sparkle?
I don't mean the sparkle in my kids' eyes, or the giddy joy of playing a new game, but the pretty sparkley shiny things that made me feel feminine and decorative.  Glitzy earrings and expensive necklaces. Bracelets that the offspring can't teethe on.
I admit it. I miss it.  I miss wearing jewelery that isn't childproof.
There's one piece in particular that I miss wearing.
It's nothing particularly fancy, but it has a lot of meaning for me.

I made this necklace about five years ago.  I made it out of a cheap clasp, some cord that I probably picked up at a local crafts store, beads from two broken necklaces, and a couple extras left over from the last time my mom hosted a "beading party."  What makes it special is the well polished stone hanging in the center.
I don't know what this stone is.  It was some sort of geode my grandmother cut and polished herself many years ago.
She was a stained glass artist, and she also enjoyed cutting and polishing stones and slabs into beautiful jewelry. When she passed after a bitter struggle with cancer, my mother inherited some of the unfinished stone pieces she'd begun, and this one passed to me.
When I first held it up to the light and saw it's swirl of inclusions and imperfections, I knew I had to make a special home for it, and was actually rather pleased to find that the beads of two of my irritatingly broken necklaces serendipitously would work together to make a perfect necklace to showcase this stone.

So yes, some of the beads are glass, some plastic, some wood, some metal.  None of it is particularly worth anything, but to me, it's worth more than a diamond, because when I wear it, I'm a little girl again in her art studio being admonished not to touch anything, because everything was sharp and dangerous, still catching my breath at the way light passes through red and gold glass.


So I miss wearing jewelery too precious to have broken by pulling little fingers.  I miss the sparkle. The sparkle of light bouncing off multifaceted and brilliantly colored gems, and the sparkle of memories far too dear.  I miss wearing this, because when I wear it, she's still alive.