This question comes from Mr. Bunny who, being the dapper hare he is, likes to know about the latest and greatest accessories.Q: What is your ultimate accessory or article of clothing and the story behind it?
Bucko: I sat on this question for quite a while, because the answer changes so frequently. Then I realized that I have a St. Teresa of Avila medal dangling from a cheap pewter chain around my neck that I haven't taken off in almost a year. St. Teresa is my confirmation saint and the patron saint of headache sufferers. I had a headache for a year. When I finally got up the nerve to go find out why, it kicked off what felt like an interminable process of blood draws and MRIs and testing new meds and frustrating conversations with my neurologist, my mother, and my bosses, since the headaches and the meds came with memory problems that kept me from being particularly good at my job.
In fact, I had very few nonfrustrating conversations during that time, but one person with whom I had only comforting conversations was my priest. See, I had also started going to church, not because of the headaches, though it did cross my mind that my return to the Catholicism I'd fled with gusto in my teens was another symptom of some catastrophic neurological illness. This priest, and this church, and this version of the religion of my grandmothers...there was a lot of noise and harsh light in my head, but in the soft gray autumn evening on the sidewalk outside St. Sebastian's when Father David told me he was praying for me before my MRI, it was so quiet and peacefully, mercifully dark. I had my MRI, and then I had a spinal tap, and after two weeks of recovery, mostly in the hands of three people in various shades of Catholic who all had that one, gentle-mercy-and-headrubs thing in common, I had coffee with theFather and announced my intention to be confirmed. When I set about finding a saint for the occasion, Teresa's feistiness, her troublemaking, her breathtaking proficiency at introspection, her being the first woman named a doctor of the church, and her looking out for people whose brains were plotting against them made her the obvious choice. Months before the actual event, I put the medal around my neck and asked her if she could just obtain for me some peace now and again. In exchange, I'd publicly declare that me and Catholicism - or at least Independent Catholicism - were back on.
And I'd pray. I still get left-eye-blinding, projectile-vomit-and-tears-inducing,stay-in-bed-and-hope-for-death headaches from time to time. And I've missed church at least 13 Sundays in a row as of this writing. And lately I pray by chatting up Jesus while I drive like he was sitting next to me, giving him a dose of the f-bombs and gossip I subject all my passengers to. (I did, however, do Hail Marys during my last MRI.) So Teresa and I still have some things to work out. But when I catch myself clenching my jaw against an incoming migraine (which makes them worse), or I have to fight for something I know is right when no one else seems to see it, or when I hear some tiny voice calling from way deep down inside me that needs to be excavated and prodded, I reach up and touch the medal, give Teresa a little nudge tosay, "Hey, I'm struggling here," and picture her smiling and nodding. She doesn't fix everything, and I don't ask her to. She's just there.
Bucko: When you say ultimate, I'm "reading" favorite so I'll continue in that direction. That doesn't simplify your query, however, because I go through clothing rather regularly disposing of older things (that's code for: donating clothing to local Goodwills and shelters) and transitioning into new fashions (that's code for: I found a great clearance deal at Old Navy or Target and/or the seasons change). I don't wear clothes until they're threadbare except for jeans, and that's only because I'm chubby and the good ol' thunder thighs rub together creating a fierce, cotton-shredding friction.
As far as accessories are concerned, I'm relatively simple. I don't wear lots of dangles or baubles (although, I do make them), but there are two constants in my wardrobe, no matter the season, no matter my outfit. I love my earrings...tiny, silver hoops. I've had a variety of brands over the years, and I couldn't tell you what I have in my ears at the moment, but they've been in my ears for a long, long time. I don't notice them, they don't tug or pinch, they're lightweight but still add that extra shimmer which says, "well, she doesn't look like a complete troll."
I don't have a signature style (to clarify: I don't THINK I do, but I have been told that I do), and I certainly don't buy designer anything. I've had a few friends over the years call me the "bag lady" because I absolutely love tote bags, messenger bags, and even purses. They're practical and generally (if you shop like I do) inexpensive. But without a doubt, I don't feel complete without my pair of teeny tiny silver hoops.
And my asthma inhaler.
