I have many. I have earrings that used to be my grandmother’s, and earrings that used to be my mother’s. I have a heart necklace with the tiniest flake of a diamond I wear always, given to me by my mom, and a ring with a pair of garnets I would wear more often if I could get used to wearing rings (for whatever reason, I never stop noticing rings on my fingers.)
Story about the necklace… I was biking to professor office hours, and it was winter so it got dark really early… Was adjusting the strap of my bag, snagged the necklace chain, which broke, sending the heart pendant flying. But I wasn’t quite sure at what point along a 50-ft stretch of bike path the necklace had actually popped off (I’d been juggling it, trying to catch the pendant, but no cigar). I spent the next twenty minutes combing the bike path on the side of a dark, semi-busy, on-campus road with my bike light. Cars would pass by and illuminate me with their headlights. I looked a bit absurd. A cop pulled up to me and asked if I was okay, I explained what I was doing. Didn’t find the necklace. After the office hour (which took about an hour), I went back to the location and started combing again. The same cop pulled up and again asked if I was okay, but his tone suggested that he was more concerned for my mental state than anything—it looked like I had been pacing back and forth in this same spot for an hour and a half—I explained I had only just gotten back to the spot after an office hours, and I was fine. Then another student pulled up—he, it turns out, had seen me during the first twenty minutes, and was on his way back to wherever and saw that I was still there. He also thought I had been searching for an apparent 1h30m, and also sounded a bit concerned for my mental state, and I explained once again that I had only just gotten back…. Anyway, he helped me search, and we found the pendant! Huzzah!
It was a bit ironic, because I was reading Jacob’s Room at the time, and had just passed the section where Betty Flanders loses a brooch at night to the grass of a hill… Of course, her brooch was symbolic, so she couldn’t find it. My pendant wasn’t, so I could.
TJBM has a riveting tale of a near-miss.