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?"

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

twice. When my 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

recollection of any of

open at night, why bother locking anything?"" My father's face lit

ached a little, and I teared

it would be so much better. Even if my

made sense so I never brought it up again. That brooch was

like the color or the

pondered. "It was a lotus flower set with rubies, which was their national flower. It symbolizes strength, dood fortune, peace,

listened intently, picturing it

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

I asked in surprise, then sighed quietly, "I don't remember