Beyond the Divorce

My father thought for a moment. "Your mother did have a family crest-a brooch. Your mother carried it to commemorate her time in the Avila family."

"Oh? Do you know where it ended up?" I couldn't wait to ask, thrilled that this family crest actually existed.

My father shook his head and sighed, "I don't know. I never saw it again after your mother and I parted ways."

His voice choked up as he spoke about it.

Coming back home, he mainly reminisced about my mother. I suppose that was his greatest emotional wound. He returned, but his beloved was no longer with him.

That kind of pain must have been unbearable. So, every time my mother was mentioned, he would tear up slightly.

I pressed further. "So, where did Mom usually keep her jewelry? I mean, when you were together?"

avoid putting pressure on me. After we got together, she knew I was struggling financially, so she

business with Louis did well, and we made some money, I bought her a few decent pieces of jewelry. She kept them all in her jewelry box on the

said felt like storytelling. I had almost no recollection of any of it.

laughed and said, 'In this house, with its doors open at night, why bother locking anything?"" My father's face lit up

ached a little,

better. Even if my father couldn't stand up anymore,

so I never brought it up again. That brooch was probably

like? I mean, like the color or

flower set with rubies, which was their national flower. It symbolizes strength, dood fortune, peace, and enlightenment. The lotus flower was incredibly lifelike, with each petal made of

listened intently, picturing it in my

to wear it when you were little, asking everyone, 'Do I look pretty?" My father remembered, looking at me with affection. "That was

wore it?" I asked in surprise, then sighed quietly, "I