Thursday, August 16, 2012

A Story About A Little Cameo Bracelet

So. In keeping with our photo challenge of the day, which is "cemetery."
 
And, since cemeteries are a little bit "woo-woo" - are you in the mood for a story that's a teeny bit spooky - well, spooky may not be the right word.

I'll let you decide.
 
In 1983 I travelled to Greece with my dear friend Michael. We stayed a couple days in Amsterdam on the way over, visited The Rijksmuseum, which I, of course, loved. 
 
And stayed at the most divine hotel in the world, The Pulitzer . You have your choice of staying in the newer section of the hotel or the old (very old!) section and we chose the old.   If I ever get back to Amsterdam, this is where I would hope to stay.  It's just exquisite and beyond words.  The corridors are hung with wonderful art work, there's a fabulous hotel garden. It's just to die for, and we thought we would stay there on our way back to Atlanta after Greece, but our reservations got screwed up and we ended up staying somewhere else. A brand new Sheraton. we were only there one night and our flight left early the next day.
 
Michael went out with friends he had in Amsterday and I stayed in, too pooped after almost three weeks of traveling abroad to want to do anything.  I ordered room service, ate and went to bed. The phone woke me later and it was hotel security.  Someone had found my purse in the hotel hallway outside my room.

Apparently, the room service guy picked it up on his way out the door and I never missed it.
The jewelry I was travelling with was gone. I didn't put it in the hotel safe because I wasn't planning on leaving the room - who knew you couldn't trust Room Service.
Anyway - - - one of the things now gone was a little cameo bracelet I dearly loved.  Each little cameo was different.

Wherever I go now I'm on the lookout for pieces of jewelry that look like what I lost in hopes of replacing some of it.
Now here's the thing about this bracelet.  I had put it in my school locker in high school before gym class one day and as I was closing the door to the locker the bracelet got caught and one of the cameo faces was badly dented, but not broken. The cameo on the end. and it made me very sad.
okay - skip forward to 1999.
Since this trip, a lot of things have changed.
 
I met and married my Donald.
 
Michael died and I miss him every day.
 
Donald and I moved from Atlanta to Boone.
 
We discovered the adorable little town of Abingdon, VA, not too far away. 
 
There's a wonderful festival in Abingdon every year - The Virginia Highlands Festival -  and we attend fairly often.  The festival also has a big antique market going on at the same time. Three huge tents full of everything you can imagine - including estate jewelry.

So, looking at the jewelry this particular day in 1999,  I almost fainted when I saw, for the first time since losing my own cameo bracelet, one just like it.   Unusual since each of the cameos are different.
I start babbling to the guy who owns the booth about how I had had one just like it, it had been stolen, blah blah blah and I would have to have this one!  (and there went ANY possibility of getting a better price. sigh).
He took it out for me to look at and I almost started crying.
Y'all. Not only did it look exactly like my bracelet, the end cameo is dented.
He told me the price, I said "can we do any better?" He chuckled and said, "Oh, I don't think so." And it wasn't all that bad so I bought it.
I had to.
 
I am as sure as I am of anything else I know that this is my bracelet.
The end cameo is dented.
 
 
 

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I feel strongly this is your bracelet, too! I lost a ring I stupidly left on a dresser in a Geneva Hotel once. We trusting Americanos!!!! Live and learn! Thelma in Manhattan

Margaret Maron said...

Wouldn't you love to know the story of how your bracelet (because it surely has to be YOUR bracelet) worked its way from Amsterdam back to you?