The Power of Pearls

A woman who walks into a room wearing a little black dress, heels and pearls exudes both confidence and class. In the South, we are raised to know the power of a strand of pearls and the woman wearing them; it is almost an instant level of respect.

I recently found the following quote by Janet Fitch while reading White Oleander that made me truly ponder the power of pearls.

"The pearls weren't really white, they were a warm oyster beige, with little knots in between so if they broke, you only lost one. I wished my life could be like that, knotted up so that even if something broke, the whole thing wouldn't come apart."

What a gut check. Is a strand of pearls more powerful than I have been raised to think? Do pearls represent something more than just confidence and class?

The strength of a real pearl necklace, properly knotted with pearls of true color, is a flawless juxtaposition of perfection and imperfection;
much like my life, some parts are the pearls and other parts are the knots.

So much of my life I feel like I could have come apart at any given time, but something held me together; something kept all of the pearls from coming undone, falling to the floor, and scattering all over the place...

I see the warm oyster beige imperfections and problems when I look at each pearl.

I see my saving graces in each and every knot that held and continues to hold me together.

How do you hold yourself together when you feel like life is falling apart? Put together your invisible string of pearls. Merge your imperfections with tightly knitted saving graces and hold your chin up high, and exude nothing but confidence and class.

After all...

Maybe

Maybe I've been slack the last few years with my writing. Whew, let's just say the last 3 years have been a whirlwind of emotions. I have no idea why I quit writing here or what kept me from doing so except excuses. I have always found writing a place to find peace of mind, yet I have deprived myself of doing so during some times where I needed it most.

Was it because I couldn't come to terms with things myself much less posting them for the world to see? Maybe. Was it because I wanted to pretend that things weren't happening and if I wrote about them, then they surely were. Maybe. Was it because I thought nobody wanted to read about what was going on in this crazy mind of mine? Maybe. Was it because I didn't want to expose others to the hurt and sadness going on in my life while knowing they had things going on in their own lives? Maybe.

Maybe.

What a simple word with such implied meaning.

Webster defines it this way:

maybe
adverb may·be \ˈmā-bē also ˈme-\
Simple Definition of maybe: possibly but not certainly
Full Definition of maybe: perhaps

Now that seems so easy to understand, but life has made me have different opinions of the word.

Isn't it funny how little things mean the most? Maybe.

As a child, maybe was simple.

Momma, can I play outside when I get done eating? Maybe.
Can I have some K-Swiss shoes for Christmas like all of the cool kids? Maybe.
Do you want to go to Pizza Hut after the game? Maybe.

Maybe was a word that left me wondering about things that really weren't all that important, but truth be told, that maybe usually came true. Yes, I could play outside. Yes, I got some K-Swiss shoes. Yes, we are all going to Pizza Hut after the game; that's what we do. Maybe seemed to be a word that just put off finding out the answer, not a word that changed the outcome of anything. Maybe was even often followed by the ever so cool shrug of the shoulders, especially when wearing some fantastically awesome shoulder pads. It made the impact of the shrug and the maybe more intense; therefore making those hearing the maybe anxiously await the response. The anticipation seemed to even make it more fun.

Isn't it funny how life changes things? Maybe.

As an adult, maybe became a word loaded with ambiguity, vagueness and often times - dread.

Doctor, do you think this chemo work? Maybe.
Do we need to prepare for around the clock care? Maybe.
Will Daddy make it to Christmas this year? Maybe.

Maybe became a word that I never wanted to hear. Maybe left me hanging on hope that often times was not hanging in the balance. Maybe made me desire things that deep down I knew weren't going to happen. Maybe gave a false sense of hope to those who I love and care about most. Maybe made me second guess myself and things I believe in. Maybe put a spin on things that I never wanted to consider or think about. Maybe became a word of finality, pain and hurt as it most often implied a not so positive outcome.

Isn't it funny how life isn't fair? Maybe.

Now looking at the word maybe, I have mixed emotions. Does maybe just delay a response or does maybe mean a dreadful ending? Maybe it's neither.

Maybe is a word that can imply both happiness and sadness. Hope and despair. Excitement and dread. Joy and pain. Anticipation and rebellion.

Even in the not so happy scenarios where I experienced maybe, maybe may have been playing me. If the word maybe wouldn't have been uttered at some of the most difficult times, I think all hope would have been removed. The word maybe has almost become an oxymoron to me.

Looking back, when the doctor replied, "maybe" to my question concerning the chemo working, I heard no. I saw what chemo did to my dad year in and year out over a 6 year period. I saw cancer continue to destroy his body and even his mind. I saw sickness. I saw pain. I saw 2 small kids looking at a father who never felt "good." I saw my mother, his wife, wanting to only hear the word yes, the chemo will work and this cancer will be gone and never come back. So from this angle, maybe was the worst word I could ever hear, but maybe there was a flip side.

Maybe, there was that other angle making it an oxymoron to me. How could one word mean the worst and best at the same time? It's simple. Maybe defines itself through perception of the one hearing it.

Maybe was a point of inspiration to my Dad. When he heard the word maybe he heard hope, he heard desire, he heard a chance. Will the chemo work? Maybe. Do we need more meds? Maybe. Will I feel like crap? Maybe. Can I drive? Maybe. Can I go back to work? Maybe. Will I see my kids graduate? Maybe.

Mr. Webster defined it best with possibly but not certainly. Daddy thought why not? He embraced the word maybe. He owned the word maybe. No matter how many times doctors, nurses, or others gave him a maybe - he accepted the challenge. Maybe meant I have a shot. Maybe meant we're not at the end. Maybe meant try. Maybe meant don't give up.

Maybe meant fight. like. hell.


So maybe perception is reality. Maybe words mean different things to different people. I know that maybe made me who I am. Maybe brought me through tough times; but as I was hating the word, it gave someone who I loved more than anything the hope to fight another day.

Maybe the little things do mean the most. Maybe a moment in time that you will never forget. Maybe a word uttered that melts your heart. Maybe a song that brings back a flood of memories. Maybe the little things are what matter. Maybe they are indeed the BIG things.

Maybe life isn't fair. I know I don't think it has always been fair to me or my family. But who determines what fair is? Maybe the unfairness leads to forming bonds with others you never knew you would need and come to rely on. Maybe the unfairness brings about strengths you didn't know you had. Maybe the unfairness teaches you things like patience and perseverance that you may not have wanted to learn but needed to.

Maybe may mean different things to different people at different times in their lives. One thing I do know is that maybe is not a word that should be taken lightly as it's impact is lasting.


~Maybe in the little things we find what's most important.

~Maybe in the unfairness we become who we are meant to be.

~Maybe life doesn't change things. Maybe life changes us.