Mum sat on the lounge her head in her hands, the look of utter surprise on her face.
Seconds earlier, there had been an audible gasp from her which gave us all reason to come running thinking something had gone wrong.
“What is it?” we asked.
“Look!” she uttered, with tears running down her face.
“What is it?” we asked, still unsure what all the fuss was about.
“Gran’s brooch. I found Gran’s broach.”
There weren’t many times in my life when Mum was speechless but this was one of them. She sat there holding the broach, tears running down her cheek, her fingers caressing the small piece of jewellery she held.
We had never heard Mum say anything about a broach so this discovery was all news to us.
“When I was about your age, Gran gave me this broach. It had been given to her by her grandmother and I promised Gran I’d always look after it. Then one day when I was about fourteen, and because there was a flood, we had to pack up quickly and move.
In the move, it was very frantic at the time, the broach was lost and I could never find it. I never told Gran, I was too ashamed to mention it. Then today I was looking through an old box of stuff and it fell out from between two old handkerchiefs. I can’t believe it,” she finally uttered.
We looked at the broach and it was a pretty piece but not something any of us would ever been seen wearing.
“I guess it has sentimental value then Mum?” we offered.
“Well if you’d known my Gran you would understand. She was a beautiful woman, I spent a lot of my childhood with her. This is precious to me.”
We left Mum with her broach and wondered what other stories and memories might come to light with the discovery of the broach.