Value Is in the Eye of the Safe-Keeper

Yesterday I went to my sister the ex-mayor's wife's house to go through things we found in Mom's safe. Don't go thinking she had one of those fancy-schmancy, in-the-wall, behind-the-Mona-Lisa-print picture frames. Nope. In her family room Mom had a giant heavy metal pale yellow industrial safe on wheels. Which kind of defeats the purpose of a safe, does it not, if people can wheel it away? Anyhoo...my dad brought it home when his office moved to a new building, and there it has sat, ever since.

I sent Sis a text. A warning. "I'm on my way. I hope my car doesn't leave a dirty spot in your driveway."

But Sis was too sly for that. "Don't worry. The ex-mayor has the hose out." Now one might assume that Sis meant the ex-mayor would clean up any mess my car left. But one would be wrong. In fact, by daring to assume, one would have made an...never mind. Sis went on: "So you can wash the driveway before you leave." Indeed. Not without my trusty assistant, who was out practicing his driving with Hick.

That phonograph needle thingy was not the only treasure in Mom's safe. It's not like she was Fort Knox or the Denver Mint. But Mom had a bunch of coins that we still have not divvied up. She was not the collector. My dad was. There was various memorabilia from days gone by. Old report cards. Newspaper clippings. Grandchildren crafts. Mom truly adored her grands. We found some pocket knives that used to upset The Pony when Grandma came to school. "Mom. Grandma has KNIVES in her purse, and that's a weapon, but she says it's okay and she's not taking them out!"

There were several baggies that each held one necklace. I told Sis I was pretty sure they were gifts The Pony had given her for Christmas and birthdays, that he had won out of the grabber machine at Walmart. She used to wear them to church, you know, and people would tell her how pretty they were, and Mom would say, "Thank you. My grandson gave it to me." Not mentioning the grabber, of course.

We found my dad's gold watch (A LONGINE!) that he got when he retired from Southwestern Bell. And you thought that was just a myth, the gold watch upon retirement! Yep. No Timex for Ma Bell. There was a stash of Dad's Masonic accouterments, with cufflinks and tie tacks and ring. You don't just drop that stuff off at Goodwill, you know.

Some things were Mom's mother's and dad's stuff. A bible. Birth certificates. Marriage certificate. Some totally random receipts, like for a trolling motor. Tax receipts. Pay stubs. A notice that an investment was currently making 11.5 percent interest. BOY HOWDY! That's how folks back then could achieve the American Dream. We also found some things my dad's mom had given her. She and her husband were amateur gemologists, and used to make jewelry.

And then we were puzzled. "Look at this!" It was a pearl necklace. Several strands, with pearls of varying sizes. "And it even has this replacement clasp in the bag with it."

"I know! It almost looks real to me. Look at the shine. And how they are on the string. And those that are imbedded in the clasp. I think somebody was taking good care of this. I wonder if Grandma left it to Mom. I never saw Mom wear it."

"I guess we won't know unless we take it to a jeweler. The worst they can do is laugh at us."

"But look at it. If it wasn't something valuable, Mom would have had it upstairs, laying in her jewelry tray with her everyday stuff. Not in a baggie with a spare clasp, locked up in her safe."

"Oh. You mean like these?" And Sis held up the baggies with the grabber machine necklaces.

TOUCHE'!

We had a good chuckle over that one.