A Jewelry Crisis

I used to have several silver necklaces . . . gifts for various occasions over the years, starting with my Tiffany 'bean' that was a 21st birthday present. I think I've been given four total . . . and slowly, over the past two years, the necklaces have disappeared. On Friday, as I dressed myself for a casual pizza dinner with our friends, I couldn't find one single necklace that I was looking for. Add to that one David Yurman ring that has gone missing, and we have found ourselves in a jewelry crisis.

I've known that at least two of the necklaces have been missing for quite some time. Because one of them includes a pearl pendant that Jim gave me when Meg was born, I have not mentioned the vanishing accessories to my husband. But on Friday, when none could be found, I finally fessed up.

"I can't find any of my necklaces . . . I know the last time I had my 'bean' . . . but the others have all disappeared and I can't find any of them," I confessed.

I hated telling him. I felt like such an irresponsible child.

Of course, because I've not mentioned any missing jewelry to Jim as it was disappearing his first instinct was to think our cleaning people have stolen our jewelry.

"Have you seen my watch? I've been missing my watch for a while now . . .and I swear I left it on the table in the living room," Jim said. "I think our cleaning people are stealing our stuff."

I rolled my eyes. I tend to think that nothing like that could ever happen to us. I tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and something like a thieving maid seems so unlikely to an optimistic me. But, when we starting putting all the pieces together, even my happy-go-lucky outlook started to get a little tarnished.

"Nooooooo . . . " I said. But even I had started to wonder if something was up, as much as I didn't want to believe it. But it couldn't be . . . and then I remembered something that would certainly prove our cleaning lady innocent.

"There is no way that our current cleaning lady is taking anything. I accidentally left my wedding ring sitting on the desk the last time she was here, and she didn't take that . . ." I said.

Let's just say . . . that particular confession was not received very well by Jim.

And so, since Friday, a frantic jewelry hunt has ensued. We have cleaned and rearranged nearly every nook and cranny of our house in an attempt to relocate some of my silver jewelry. And Jim's watch. Jim's watch was the most important missing accessory in my opinion because it was my wedding gift to him. He might argue that the ring was most important because it was my 1st anniversary present . . . or the pearl pendant because it was my 'push present' for Meg . . . but all I cared about was the watch.

I'm happy to report that this story has a good ending. We've found several pieces of jewelry . . . and, in all the searching, we've even managed to find some good stuff we didn't even know was missing.

Friday night we found two of my four missing necklaces. The other two I'm not sure we will ever find . . . the pearl pendant may still be around here somewhere, but the silver tear-drop that has been missing for over a year is probably history. My ring is still evading us, but I have yet to check a few key spots in which it could be hiding. I'm keeping my (ringless) fingers crossed for that one . . . I do adore that ring and am still holding out hope that it turns up.

And -- most importantly --just this morning Jim found his watch among the blankets and cushions on our couch. I think we all did a little dance together when we found that one. I'm so glad we found it.

Wheew . . . as I wipe my forehead with my hand, I think I can safely say that nobody is stealing from us. Our cleaning lady is very honest and has not helped herself to anything more than maybe a coke or a bottle of water around here . . . though I probably won't leave my diamond ring out to tempt her again.

I think I'll go get dressed now and wear one of my newly found necklaces . . . and maybe I'll go check for that DY ring one more time . . . if you've any tips as to where you've located a dearly beloved missing item, so share . . . I'm willing to look anywhere at this point.