It turns out that the burglars who hit us while we were off at Dillon were even less fortunate than I had thought. I already knew that they had made off with a flat-panel television that was nearly worthless – we had picked it up for a mere $60 because it didn’t have an HD tuner, and the store was trying to get rid of it before the deadline after which all TVs were required to have one.
And they left a $25 bottle of Scotch sitting on the kitchen counter and a perfectly good VCR in the living room that we had bundled up with its remote and owner’s manual in preparation for donation to charity.
Now I have discovered that, when they took my big jewelry chest, they didn’t make off with all of the loot that I thought they had.
A year or more ago, Pat and I had gone on vacation during the holiday season, and I had packed some of my nicer jewelry in a travel pouch so I could wear it for some special occasions. When we returned from that trip, I never got around to returning the jewelry to the big chest. This afternoon, I was looking for something else, and I found the travel bag, which had fallen down behind the desk in the bedroom and been buried by the mess that the burglars made when they ransacked the bedroom, which I hadn’t had the heart to clean up.
In the pouch was most of my silver-and-turquoise Native American jewelry, including all of the most valuable pieces, my grandmother’s college class ring, and a few other items.
Still missing are all of the academic honor society insignia, most of the opal jewelry, all of my other grandmother’s costume jewelry, and most of the seasonal/novelty jewelry my mother has given me over the years.
But now I have the Henderson State College Class of ’32 ring, a memento of my grandmother, a teacher whose legacy includes an extended family full of educators.