mariakoropecky By Maria Koropecky
In the Ukrainian tradition, we say, “vichnaya pamyat” which means “eternal memory” after someone passes away, and on this 25th anniversary of my father’s passing, I’m thinking about the concept of time in a new way for me.
Time is mind-boggling. Twenty-five years is both a quarter of a century and a drop in the bucket. Still, looking back, it went by rather quickly.
As an officer in the Canadian Navy, my father travelled extensively in his career. He’d always come home with gifts and one time he brought me Amber earrings and pendants.
Like my own ancestral line, golden Amber mostly comes from the Baltic region of Eastern Europe. It’s amazing to me that Amber is a fossilized resin from ancient pine trees and can be millions of years old.
The Amber necklace I’m wearing as I write this has been on its own journey, possibly found washed ashore along the Baltic Sea, then crafted into jewellery, and then sold at market where my father chose and bought them, with me in mind. Then they travelled overseas in my father’s suitcase and landed in my hands where they stayed for decades — all the while quietly folding the past and future together into the present moment.
I liked the pendants but didn’t wear the earrings because I thought the fastenings were made from some heavy, industrial Soviet-era metal but as it turned out, I found out just a few months ago that the fastenings are actually made from sterling silver!
What a gift from across time and space. And maybe I wasn’t ready to appreciate the earrings then, but somehow by an invisible hand, they unexpectedly resurfaced again in a new way. I have since upcycled my amber jewellery into 3 necklaces which I love!
Time is about change and perspective and we can play with time in our imagination. When I wear my amber jewellery, I feel connected to my father, like time and space don’t really exist.
We are all connected: human, animal, plant, mineral, on this physical earth or beyond it. Holding amber reminds me of the continuity and expansion of life.
My Amber also reminds me that what and who we love never disappear, they just change into a new form and can show up in a new light out of nowhere — it’s just about being open when they do arrive.
My family will be hosting a torte and port in honour of my father on Saturday and if you knew him and would like to join us, let me know and I’ll give you the details.
And if you’re grieving someone you love, I hope this reflection brings you some comfort.
Vichnaya Pamyat, Tato.
