DEAR TIFFANY

Tiffany & Co has made a name for themselves among the fine jewelry industry for having some of the finest silver, gold and diamonds. They have made an even bigger splash with brand recognition because of the way they package their delicate charms. I would bet millions that each of you reading this already know what I am about to say…the little blue box.  The little blue box is known by men and women all over the world. It represents luxury and class, and time and time again women open these boxes given to them by loved ones on special occasions.  Every time, a furry of emotions rushes throughout each of their bodies that erupt in the forms of smiles, joyful screams and happy tears.  Coming from someone who has been lucky to receive a few of these boxes knows how special these moments truly are. 

I grew up 30 minutes outside Washington, DC in several towns in Northern VA.  My parents divorced when I was only two and my brother was nine.  When my father decided to walk out on us I was too young to fully remember each detail like the month, the season or whether it was sunny or rainy.  However, I do recall the feeling I felt the years following that day. I was angry. I wanted nothing to do with him.  I didn’t want to see him. The mention of his name and a picture of his face made me sullen. It took me five years to speak to him again. 

I had just turned seven when I decided that I would see my father again. By this time my father had missed out on several milestones in my life: I had already had my first kiss, picked out my first doll, peddled my bike on my own and started Girl Scouts.  We had a long road ahead of us of full of twists and turns, bumps and swerves that would eventually lead us to a loving father daughter relationship. 

Let’s fast-forward to age 10. I am in 5^th grade at St Leo’s Catholic Grade School in Fairfax, VA.  As most kids this age, I was a bit awkward. I was unsure about myself, and most of all I just wanted other children to like me. It seemed a bit early, but at this age I began a love affair with pretty things.  I looked forward to shopping for new clothes, got giddy when I could try on a new pair of shoes my mother bought, and I was mesmerized by the shine of trinkets.  I was on my way to becoming a real “girly-girl.”  It was later in that year that I had my first run in with Tiffany.  

I had done it. I had graduated 5^th grade. I was very proud, and was going to celebrate with my family.  My relationship with my father had also been very steady. We were learning how to relate to each other. It is funny that all of the “girly girl” things that I loved were most adored by my father instead of my mother. I think that these things were growing out of this new partnership. Later that day my father approached me with a simple brown bag.  As soon as it left his hands, and entered mine I immediately ripped apart the bag.  The bag housed a square box that was wrapped in a white bow. The white satin ribbon was tied so perfectly hitting each side.  The perfect pairing of the bow and the little blue box ignited a fuzzy feeling inside.  My father read aloud the name that was written across the top in black print “Tiffany & Co.”  He explained to me how only special little girls receive something from here, and that it was time for me to enjoy the magic. As I opened the box I saw my first shiny gem. It was a sterling silver ballerina for my charm bracelet. I lit up like the top of a Christmas tree ornament, and embraced my father in a hug that seemed like it lasted for an eternity. We smiled at each other and said I love you.  As we let go I ran up to my room. I put the charm on my bracelet, and saved the little blue box. I found a home for it on my dresser.  It was the first of this kind of experience that I dreamed would happen again because of the moments that occurred after I opened the box. 

The little blue box became a tradition between my father and me.  It was so important that we found this because we had lost all bonds that are formed between the ages of two and seven.  During these special occasions it seemed as if we were able to freeze time that could only be shared between the two of us. Ladies, I can hear you all saying that I had hit the jackpot, and yes I had hit the goldmine of bracelets, rings, pendants and necklaces.  But most of all I had found a bond with my father that continues today. I can recall getting trinkets for Christmas, my birthday, during trips to see me in New York, and even on Father’s Day one year. After opening each gift, I would take the little blue box and stack in neatly in the shape of a tower on my dresser. All of my closest friends call it the tower of Tiffany.

I would give anything to change my father’s decision to walk away on that indescribable day, but I can’t turn back the time.  I would return all of the jewelry he gave me if it would give me back those 5 years.  I am grateful today that I have him in my life.  Every time I see a little blue box I think of how my relationship with my father has bloomed.  As I walk past my tower of Tiffany I see flashes of the days we created together.  These periods of time can never walk away from me. They are held close to my heart just like a locket.

We have come a very long way since I was two, and have formed something so special and strong that can only fit into a perfectly square blue box that is tied with a beautiful satin bow and sealed with a kiss.