From JuJu with Love

I don’t travel with my diamond huggies anymore.

Which probably sounds a little ridiculous, considering I wear them every other day of my life—sleeping, showering, walking the dog, everything.

They’re just… part of me.

But there’s a reason they never leave the country anymore.

Several years ago, I was on a flight home. Nothing big or glamorous—just a regular domestic trip.

I think it might have been the trip where we were closing up my mom’s Florida house.
Which probably explains why losing it—even for a moment—felt like losing so much more.

Somewhere before landing, I took off my headphones.

And one of my earrings fell off.

You know that feeling when your stomach drops instantly? That was me. I froze for a second, hoping maybe it hadn’t really happened. But it had.

I stayed on that plane long after everyone else had gotten off. I searched the floor, under the seat, around my bag—anywhere it could have gone. People were filing past me, grabbing their luggage, heading on with their day… and I was still there, scanning the ground, trying to find something that suddenly felt irreplaceable.

Because I wasn’t just looking for an earring.

I was trying not to lose something I couldn’t replace.

Eventually, I had to give up. I walked off that plane without it, completely deflated, already replaying it in my head. How did it fall out? When? Why didn’t I notice sooner?

I got home, still upset, still thinking about it, and later that night I reached into the inside pocket of my jean jacket.

And there it was.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt relief like that over something so small.

Those earrings were a gift from my mom. She gave them to me on my 46th birthday. I had wanted them for a long time, and in true “my mom” fashion, she made it a whole moment—cards, gifts, celebration. She loved birthdays. Not just her own… everyone’s.

I’ve worn those earrings almost every day since.

They’re not the most valuable piece of jewelry I own. But they’re the most meaningful.

They were the last gift she ever gave me.

A week after my 46th birthday, my mom died.

Somewhere along the way, they stopped being just earrings. They became something I reach for without thinking. I catch myself touching them during the day. They’ve been with me through everything—ordinary days, big trips, quiet moments, and all the in-between.

But after that flight, I made a decision.

I don’t travel with them anymore.

Not because they’re valuable.

But because of what they carry.

This year, my mom’s yahrzeit falls on the day I leave for Alaska.

As I pack my suitcase, I’ll do what I always do. I’ll take off the earrings and put them in my safe and leave them safely at home before I travel.

They’ve missed Antarctica.

Japan.

Africa.

Europe and countless other adventures.

And now they’ll miss Vancouver and Alaska too.

Sometimes people ask why I don’t just take them with me.

The answer is simple.

They’re the last gift my mom ever gave me.

And while I can replace jewelry, I can’t replace that.

So the earrings stay home.

Some things are too precious to risk.

But the woman who gave them to me comes along on every trip.

From Juju with Love 💙