Not A Push Present
a bracelet with a premonition.
More and more, I’m finding that the loss of an object can be just as meaningful as receiving it. A few months ago, podcaster Nichole Hill told me about the loss of her compass necklace during a precarious time. But it was that loss and that “lack of direction” that gave her the freedom to find her own way. Clearly, loss does not always equal gain, but sometimes it is ultimately about how we frame these moments. It’s a choice to make it a glass-half-full experience.
Anna Solomon’s loss also marked a moment in time. The fact that she finds a story in it is not surprising. A radio journalist and a writer, Anna produced three critically acclaimed novels, including The Book of V., a finalist for the Sami Rohr Prize. A two-time winner of the Pushcart Prize, she is now the Editor-in-Chief and CEO of Lilith, a Jewish women’s magazine.
I was so excited when she did indeed have a story to share about a piece of jewelry. I am trying out a new questionnaire format that gives contributors a bit more ownership over this process while allowing me to post more often.
The following Q&A has been edited.
Name Anna Solomon
Where are you from? Gloucester, Massachusetts
Current Location? Brooklyn, NY
How did you acquire this piece? My husband (now ex) bought it from a friend of ours who makes jewelry. He gave it to me after the birth of our first child. I think people sometimes call these “push presents”—I’m sure he didn’t [think of it that way], because I would have vomited. I wonder now if I felt at all weird about getting a gift at that time. But I loved the bracelet, so….
Do you wear it regularly? I did! Then I lost it. I loved it. It was maybe two inches long, gold twig studded with tiny diamonds on a very thin gold chain. A lovely mix of nature (I grew up in the woods) and also refinement. I guess I associated it with motherhood, too. There was a morning, my second child, my son, was around 10 or 11 months old, and I was going to drive from Providence (where I lived at the time) to Gloucester, MA (where I am from) to do some research on a book, and I was nursing him before I left, and things had been tough for a week or two, he’d been waking up a ton in the night to nurse only to literally wake up in the morning spilling milk from his mouth -- I was feeling like it was becoming less... functional... for us both. And on that morning, he started chewing on my breast! And I kept making him stop, and he kept doing it. And I was like, I am done! I’m done. I set him down, thinking he would be really upset, but instead he smiled and crawled off happily to do something else. I was in shock. Relieved and also sad. I got in the car and started driving, and that drive was always emotional for me. I was leaving the life I’d made for the one I’d been raised in, and the city for the ocean, and a sense of great responsibility for a feeling of freedom. And somewhere along the drive I realized the bracelet was gone. I looked and looked and never found it. In the end, it felt just right that it disappeared the last time I nursed Sam.
Where is it from? What do you know about its maker? It was made by designer Michelle Fantaci, who has become a good friend. I later got the necklace version, and I still wear it most days. I also have another beautiful necklace by Michelle, which I bartered for—I wrote copy for her website for the necklace.
Another fun gem from the archive of Anna is her COVID-era Instagram project, “Unkempt Real Life." Instead of every other Yesteryear-like lifestyle influencer, Anna decided to invite people to send her pictures of their real-life disaster areas. She even chronicled her own.
Mess or not, many thanks to Anna for sharing her jewelry story, and if you’re looking for your next read, look here.
Tell me your jewelry story HERE.
LOVE THIS!