Julie R. Enszer
	Shopping In Bangkok I ask to see the aquamarine— my grandmother’s birthstone. No, not earrings; a pendant, perhaps? There were three. Each large, well-cut. The Thai saleswoman says, very beautiful, yes? She looks at me expectantly. Suddenly, I am crying: My eighty-five year old grandmother labels everything with the name of the one who will receive it when she dies. The one person who should get this pendant if I were to give it to my grandmother is the granddaughter who shares her birthstone, aquamarine, the granddaughter—my sister— who nearly shared her birthday, but is now long dead, so I tell the saleswoman, No. No. It is not quite right.