The Sapphire Necklace, Natalie Gildea ‘23

When all this has dissolved into dust, only one image will unfailingly poke through the rubble in my memory: her sapphire necklace. That’s not to say that the gemstone she wore was by any means as lavish as an authentic sapphire—she’d scoff at such an extravagant investment—rather, it is the only word that suffices to describe the majestic blue bit of treasure perpetually dangling from her neck. My earliest memories of her all revolve around that necklace. I’d stand transfixed while my eyes traced its movements during one of her dances or followed its languid sway while she paced the kitchen—and I’d think, It’s as big as the ocean. The same simple phrase reverberating in my mind each time I’d stare into the sapphire’s depths, the same basic truth. Everything inside that tiny jewel swirled together to form an endless murky brilliance on its surface, somehow seeming to guard all the sea’s secrets for those who had the valor to unearth them. It was as big as the ocean, but I was always more content to watch the waves tumble in than to fight through them into uncharted waters. So, I devoted myself to memorizing the gem’s divinely designed lineaments and its delicate edges instead. Sometimes, she’d toss her head back in a radiant ripple of laughter, maybe over some trivial remark a distant friend made or some “simply absurd” idea that had arisen in a conversation, and a sliver of that sapphire would capture the light for the slimmest fraction of a second. A tiny star would seem to shimmer on the surface, having the whole universe for itself, and with a wink, it would retreat back into the midnight blue haze before most could even catch a glimpse of it. One transient moment of glory, but simply a speck in comparison to the grandeur and wonder contained in that gemstone. And, invariably, that necklace would snag, just like any other. It would flutter against some unrelenting wind and tangle in the unkempt tresses of her hair or latch itself onto an intricate bit of lace on her collar.And, invariably, I would fish it out from whatever knot or button or loop it clung to, stealing a minute to lose myself in the gem’s eternal mystery while I refastened it around her neck. With my aid, it seemed, the necklace would continue entrancing the hearts of all the dreamers she encountered—so, it would continue to survive. I sometimes contemplate, neither with hope nor dread, the day when nobody will live to dig up her necklace from whatever predicament it loses itself in. I envision the night when she stumbles into a seat on some evening train and the clasp snaps for the final time when she abandons that luminous refuge of all the universe’s secrets, unaware as she disembarks. And I think of every necklace chain breaking apart one day, all drifting through a world bereft of any of that mystique, all dragging their infinite gemstones to no end.

Natalie Gildea ‘23