The Tide Pool Starfish Necklace

I Had Two Grandmothers
At the Seashore

I had two grandmothers at my summer beach. There was the fancy grandmother with silver hair and manicured nails, who stepped out of Vogue magazine and was married to Grandfather Cross of Cross Jewelers. Then there was my redheaded grandmother, who woke up before the sun and whose goal was to be the first one on the beach every morning to see what the tide had washed in overnight. The red-headed grandmother collected lobster traps and buoys and all types and sizes of shells, driftwood, and everything imaginable that might wash in on a Maine sand beach. The redheaded grandmother went barefoot all summer and was more of a kid than any of her grandchildren.

Out in the back of her garage, she had a six by four-foot whitewashed wooden table where she placed starfish to dry and cure. She would position the legs and arms in different arrangements so that her starfish told stories. There were three colors of starfish: pink, burgundy, and grey. Baking in the sun for several weeks froze the shape of the starfish and, after a month, took most of the fishy smell away. The dried starfish and sea urchins were for visiting kids to take home as treasures. She gave away hundreds every summer.