THE G STORY

I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell my dad’s story — maybe to the world, but mostly to myself. He was always an enigma to me. Anyway, to know me, is to know my jewelry. And it’s all because of him. I started a handle to track and tell the background of so many pieces that have withstood centuries and generations.

My grandmother had so many things with butterflies. Jewelry, china, kitchen linens. The symbolism of butterflies is one of the most obvious in culture. The day my dad passed, at the exact moment in fact, a monarch butterfly began circling my nephew

When my dad died there were generations of relics to sort through. He saved everything. We discovered a metal tin full of his dad’s WWII medals, buttons, dog tags. The last photo is of my dad’s everyday jewelry. He never took this stuff

Such intricate, little relics. An Old Testament that opens and shuts. Little scrolls inside mezuzahs. The serenity prayer. How does Judaism deal with suicide?

This is a super special and old piece. Was Keena’s. I’m terrified to wear it as I talk with my hands so much I’m afraid I’ll crush the cameos and they will turn to dust. Considering my dad has always coined me a clutz, I&rsqu

My dad had dozens of charm bracelets in that big jewelery box. Timelines marked with celebratory moments or coming of age milestones. I think this was Karen’s based on some of the engravings on the gold. Or maybe her mom just transferred some

So many amazing rings… but the trinity ring is the one than gave birth to so many other things. My dad was obsessed with making things, mostly of wood, metal or leather. Bracelets. Rings. Logic puzzles. He was always widdling away at someth

My dad’s ring. It was a part of him. He never took it off unless he had to be in the hospital. I have it now. Back when we were dividing up the Jewelery between me and my sister, my sister took all the diamonds and I took all the big gold pie

Eric Andrew Goberman. The daddy. A collector of things. So many things. Saved everything. He never really wore this. And forgotten he had given it to me. Apparently my parents were robbed one eve. The person just took rings. Weird. Luckily for them

My dad could do anything we asked of him with our jewelry. In college this was my favorite piece but I lost the bottom at a bar. He recreated it for me. And when I reminded him about 20 years later he whipped out the spare pieces in under a minute.

I recently got a little peek into my grandparents’ relationship through letters they saved. It was from a time right when Hap, my dad’s dad, was getting the store and home set up in Nj while Keena was still in Delaware. Young love quarre

My everyday stack for a while now. It’s a watch chain from the grandparents, another from @themoonstoned, and a 25th wedding anniversary charm that my grandfather must’ve given my grandmother. It says on the back, “for giving me 25

My dad started working in Mexico when he was my age. This thing is heavy. Solid gold. I’ll transform it somehow. I have some inspiration from @themoonstoned for sure.

Over the years my dad started taking apart some things he thought were out of date. He would make little diamond earrings for me, my sister, my mom. This brooch bears the scars of those gifts. But recently I found the loose center stone. He must hav

One thing that was especially delightful to me: All things with k and g on them. For my grandmother, Keena, and my late aunt Karen. My initials now are KGS. Got pretty lucky that it all still works

My sister and I would comb through for hours. One day we each made piles for what we wanted to keep. As a little girl giant colored things with gold and pearls were my faves. My sister loved the diamonds. We are still exactly the same.

Each trinket had a story. A momento for a milestone. Anniversaries. Birthdays. Messages of love. Dates engraved. So many for Karen. A sweet 16 charm in June of 63….. though I knew she had died later that year.

The jewelry box. When I was about 10 my grandparents both passed. They were young and my dad was about my age now. My father inherited the jewelry they had gathered over the years. They had owned their own jewelry store in Washington township, nj.

So how did this start?
I think it started with her. Karen Goberman. 1947-1963. My aunt. My namesake. The mystery that surrounded her death. The secret I didn’t learn until about 13.
This whole thing begins with her, my dad, and my grandpare