Our home was a symphony of chaos, a joyful whirlwind of laughter, spilled drinks, dropped food crumbs, and my younger brother, Eddie’s, incessant mischievous antics. Despite the chaos, a sense of love, warmth, and contentment permeated every inch of our home. At the center of this happy mess, nestled on top of my grandmother’s buffet, stood a testament to my parents’ marriage—a magnificent lead crystal vase, a wedding gift to Mother from her dear friend, Robbie Hilliard. Its delicate curves and intricate designs caught the light streaming through our living room window and scattered tiny rainbows across the walls. As a young girl, the vase mesmerized me with its ability to capture the sunlight and transform it into a kaleidoscopic display of colors. I often sneaked into the living room just to admire it from afar, dreaming of the day when I would have something equally beautiful to call my own. Mother treasured the vase, and I remember watching her carefully dust and polish