to trace a family heirloom, a “modest” jade pendant necklace she had sent as a reconciliation gift to her estranged daughter in Boston. The handwriting was barely decipherable in parts. One could see from the shaky lines and clots of ink that she was old and possibly suffering from mild Parkinson’s. She divulged in the letter that her husband had recently died and her daughter, who had run away from home at an early age, was now her only living kin. Her daughter would “surely have sent a letter or note” to her “ailing mother” if the gift had been securely delivered. Perhaps the present had “burst open” along the way, in which case would we kindly search for the lost necklace, which had originally come all the way from Singapore? Feeling low in spirits, I reached my hand deep in the box labelled Jewellery and confirmed what I already suspected. No necklace. I refolded the letter and placed it in a folder of correspondence to be answered later. I wondered how many mothers, at that very moment, were writing letters of appeal to their disaffected children.
