A Single Silver Polar Bear
I tend to wear a lot of jewelry. Sort of, anyway—my mother never wears any, so I grew up being told that I wear a ton of jewelry. And maybe it’s true. Up until recently, I would wear, at the very least, four rings and a necklace every day. That was the minimum. Sometimes I’d wear more than one necklace, and sometimes I would add a few bracelets.
In seventh grade, I took a school trip to Arizona. It was the second time I’d ever woken up in the middle of sleepwalking. Freaky stuff, when you’re twelve and can’t go running to mom and dad.
We went to about a million other places over those four days, but I remember going to an Indian reservation. I don’t remember what tribe.
I bought a sterling silver ring there. Ten bucks. The man who sold it to me said the bears circling it said they were “for strength and protection.”
And I remembered that we were going to move and thought, “I might need that soon.”
That was when I started wearing rings.
I lost it nine months ago, after wearing it nearly every day for almost six years. I can’t bring myself to wear my rings any more. A necklace, every now and then, and a watch I bought in Germany this past summer, every day. But no rings.
