This morning I was looking at the obituaries column in the newspaper from a city where we used to live. I was happy to discover no one I knew has passed away recently, but a detail in one of the photos of a deceased fellow caught my eye.
The photo of the man, who passed away at a rather young age, was particularly good. But the detail I noticed was a lapel pin, a broach actually, that he was wearing on his jacket.
I stared and stared at that pin. It looked so familiar. Sure enough, it used to belong to me! When we moved from that city several years ago I donated the pin, along with several other pieces of costume jewellery, to a local thrift shop. The young man was an artsy sort of fellow and it didn't appear at all strange to see what I know to be a woman's broach on his lapel. (Why is it that people in the arts can get away with wearing all manner of items with ease that the rest of the population couldn't get away with at all?) It is a lacquered tree leaf, rather earthy and elegant.
It is good to know that someone purchased my lovely pin from the shop, but it took me a minute to get over the eerie feeling I experienced when I first saw it on the lapel of someone who just passed away. Must be my superstitious Irish peasant heritage, but seeing it there in the newspaper obits gave me quite a start.