Touch rocks

Yesterday Gregorie handed me a chunky-plastic-heart-shaped-jewel-y thing and said, "Can you make me a necklace?"  I was on my way to clean the bathroom and I really wanted to say, "NO!"  I looked up at those roll-y brown eyes and thought about all the plastic junk my kids have, despite my best intentions, and about how she didn't need to be "fancy" in this moment, and I said, "No."  And then she pressed that chunky-plastic-heart-shaped-jewel-y thing into my hand.  She did.  And I reeled.  Whoa.  I felt it.  I held it. And I was transported. To a moment sometime far away.  I was 4 or 5 or 6 or 8.  I don't know.  But I held something, I dunno, was it a heart or a stone or a random piece of chunky plastic?  But it felt.just.like.this.  And it was intended to be hung on a string. What was it?  I searched my memory.  But, no, I'll never know.  I just know it felt.just.like.this  in my hand. Ya, that...  I made her the necklace.  And when she sleeps, I touch the heart.