Toward the end of June,
Jack asked for the silver earrings. Just before the wedding, he returned
the silver clips, now encased in transparent resin and set on a koa wood
base.
We talked about the day of the plantation tour. He said I'd hidden
the earring, then driven out from Honolulu that night and left it on the
grass. I said he'd hidden it so he would have an excuse to see me
again.
Jack's
brother Bob and his wife, Wilma, arranged for our wedding in a charming faded green
church at Honokohua, Maui. The Rev. John Kukahiko arrived late. He'd
been blessing the opening of the Makawao Rodeo.
Shuffling down the
aisle, the elderly man greeted the four of us, opened his briefcases,
whipped out his wrinkled black robe, Bible, and the paperwork. We got on
with the ceremony.
An hour or so later as we
stood on Bob and Wilma's lanai, I idly fingered one of the elegant jade
earrings Jack had given me as a wedding gift. I knew I was the luckiest
woman alive.
Two years later, Jack retired and we moved to Arizona. The tapestry of
our lives grew as we weathered conditions common to most families. One day
I stopped at a shopping center after work. Exiting the car, I swung my
handbag in front of me and knocked off an earring. I slowly backed into
the 100 degree heat, looking all around. No luck. Just like the Ewa
earring. I removed the remaining earring and placed it in a depression
between the front seats, and finished my errands.
Arriving home, I grabbed my packages, and realized I'd lost the
other earring! Although the garage was unbearably hot, I searched
inside the little yellow car. Nothing.
Entering the house, I moved into the warmth of Jack's welcoming
embrace. I decided to tell him about the latest earring episode, even if
he teased me. After all, I thought, he was skilled at finding
lost jewelry.
ANOTHER LOST EARRING I decided to take a shower. As I undressed,
the first earring dropped to the floor. Great! But where was the
other one? Oh, well . . .
The following afternoon I walked into the bedroom and spotted something
on my dressing table. There, glistening on top of a piece of paper, were
both earrings. The note said, "Found by the greatest earring
finder the world has ever known."
I don't know how Jack found that little earring, then or in
1971.
I do know I have a husband who doesn't give up easily.
Sometimes I've thought his tenacity was nothing but stubbornness. Mostly,
however, that trait has been a valuable asset.
His wonderful persistence
contributed to the discovery of one lost woman and two elusive earrings.
