Wednesday, March 2, 2011

If it comes back, it's yours.

For my sixteenth birthday, my parents surprised me with a diamond solitaire necklace similar to the one in the above picture. It was my most prized possession as I had never owned anything as sentimentally or monetarily valuable in my life. I wore it every day and only took it off on the rare occasion when another necklace went with my chosen ensemble more appropriately. Again, this was rare - what outfit doesn't go with a diamond necklace? After 8 years of blinged bliss, just one month after our wedding, Brian and I attended another wedding in Pittsburgh. It was a fast and furious travel weekend - we were in Pittsburgh for less than 24 hours - and while changing in the hotel bathroom out of my wedding guest attire and into my sleeping on the plane attire, I lost my necklace.

This sent me into a tailspin. Here I was, beginning the next chapter of my life with a new husband and in a new city and I had lost the one possession I had treasured and kept on me every day. I emailed the bride (on her honeymoon), I called the hotel and demanded to speak to the head of housekeeping who was responsible for cleaning the ballroom bathroom during the hours of 5:00pm and midnight. Nothing. It was gone. The following weeks I mourned my necklace. I buried my dream of one day passing it down to my daughter on her sixteenth birthday. Overwhelmed with guilt, I called my parents to confess my biggest mistake. I turned all of my luggage inside out and still, the necklace was nowhere to be found.

The holidays came and went and I was sick to my stomach, convinced that someone at the hotel had in fact found my necklace and it was now around the neck of a random hotel employee's daughter who couldn't possibly love the necklace as much as I had. I began to question whether I deserved nice things since I clearly couldn't handle the responsibility of owning a beautiful necklace. Maybe I should just keep my engagement ring in a safety deposit box at the bank until I can prove I am mature enough for such a gift.

Two and a half years later, after Brian's second day at his new job, he asked me to take his car into the shop. Someone in his parking garage had slammed into tapped the rear bumper and he wanted to make sure it was only cosmetic and not a bigger issue than met the eye. Since I have not yet decided what I want to be when I grow up (more on that later) I jumped at the assignment. This morning, as I adjusted the mirrors and shifted his Mazda 3 into reverse, I saw something glistening out of the corner of my right eye. No way. The clasp of a necklace was poking out of the crease in the passenger seat. I pulled the clasp to reveal an entire white gold chain. With a solitaire diamond in the center. My necklace. All along my necklace was with me? I drove that car every day in West Hollywood and again when we moved to Santa Monica. It was with me on my daily commute - for all the good days and all the bad, the road trips, fun nights out, visits to the doctor, important moments and mundane; my necklace was there. Hands shaking, I pulled back the lobster claw and clasped it to the matching loop. I ran my fingers around the chain not only to ensure it fastened securely, but also to confirm I wasn't dreaming.

I'm sure there is some spiritual and zodiacal significance to finding my necklace and finding it today. All I know is it felt like a piece of me was missing and I finally have it back.

Now I'm ready to conquer the world! And by conquer the world I mean unpack box #72...


  1. you're quite a fantastic little writer kimbleh. i think your new career might be staring you in the face. this was a wonderful read.

  2. brought tears to my eyes! i love nostalgic hallmark moments! we miss you guys- can't wait to visit you in Austin!