A Charmed Life

In 1973 at Christmastime, my second husband robbed me.

I had blithely set out for the day leaving behind my four dogs (an Afghan hound- technically his- two Bassets and a Doberman) my Oldsmobile Cutlass with the license plate “Pookah” and all my valuables in our house outside of Baltimore.

Upon my return, I found…

Hmmm.  Let’s just say for the sake of time, only the house.

Which had been ransacked beyond my powers of description.

My second husband and all the dogs had vanished into thin air.

Along with my car.

After the shock had started to wear off and the police had been called, I took some preliminary inventory.

All the mattresses had been slashed. Gone were the pills in the medicine chest, the frozen food, all my Steiff stuffed animals and my typewriter. A Smith Corona Selectric.

And then I discovered that all of my jewelry was missing, as well.

Which was the point of the whole damn thing.

Even though I was still young at that time, I owned some beautiful jewelry.

My grandmother had given me some.

My parents had given me a little – including a gold pocket watch that had been my father’s father’s most treasured possession.

And my first husband’s family had given me some lovely pieces.

My second husband and his henchmen- the cops later told me that there were three criminals involved in this enterprise- did not get my Cartier Tank watch.  I happened to be wearing it that morning.

Thank goodness.

But they did manage to get quite a haul of irreplaceable items.

And one of them was my charm bracelet that I had been given as a pre-teen.

And now, after all these years, it’s the piece of jewelry that I miss the most.

For those of you who actually know me, I’m sure you’re aware of my – shall we say- colorful marital history.

I’ve been wooed and won and loved and lost more than my fair share.

And with each new romance came hope- and swag.

Loot.  Jewelry. Bling.

(Some of it more blingy than others.)

But nothing ever told my story better than that charm bracelet.

It was a wearable autobiography.

I’ll close my eyes now and try to remember each charm.

Let’s start with the Scottie Dog.

Funny that it was a Scottie.  I had started this charm bracelet when I was about twelve.  I was dog-crazy as a kid.  Still am today.  But I had never owned a Scottie and hence the wish- in the form of a little silver charm.

Look what that charm turned into many years later.

Here’s the clan. That’s Wee Gillis, St. Andrew Ross McGregor Stuart and Kayo Murdoch chillin’ in my/their Colorado kitchen.  (I know. Black dogs are hard to see. Sorry.)

The next charm I can see is is this.

An ice skate.  Boy, does that bring back fond memories of countless cold-but-enchanting Friday nights at the Wilmette Village Green.

I had a pair of skates handed down from my cousin, Suzie.  They were white, of course and had a blue and white yarn pom pom on each boot.

I had a chocolate velveteen skating skirt- not handed down from Cousin Suzie- a bulky cream-colored knit sweater and a matching tam.  It was my uniform and every Friday and Sunday in the winter, I’d hop into it- and my mother’s car- and dream of the scalding hot chocolate with the teeny marshmellows that I was going to sip (carefully) in the next few hours.

I loved skating.  The feeling of freedom was just…intoxicating.  I never had that feeling before and I didn’t discover it again until years later when I learned to ski.

(You’ll notice my daughter Natasha was the only one in this photo not wearing sun glasses.  She categorically refused to wear them- no matter how much I begged her. Until one day, when her eyes hurt her so terribly that I had to take her to an emergency appointment with an opthamologist.  Turned out the Snowmass sun had scorched her eyeballs.  Was she ever in pain.  She wore sunglasses on the slopes forever after.)

Here’s the next charm I can remember.

A silver globe that spun when you twirled it.

My father once told me that I when I was two, I stormed up to him, put my hands on my hips and indignantly stated, “Do you know that I have never been anywhere in my whole life?”

That sounds like me.

Then- and now.

I love traveling.  Just show me an empty suitcase and I start dreaming.

And even though I was a late bloomer, my wonderful life has taken me on a magic carpet ride.

I’ve loved everywhere from NYC to HK.

I’ve stood in awe in front of this.

And this.

And there is still so much more I long to see.

The next stop on my bracelet is this one.

For my younger readers, let me explain.

This was a telephone.

Not an iPhone or A Google Android phone.

A phone.

With something called a dial.

Here’s what we teens used to do with it.

Neat-O, right?  And just in case any of you crazy kids wants to start a charm bracelet of your very own, you can always start with this.

The next link on my bracelet held this.

A tiny adding machine- with a workable crank.  My New Trier High School freshman year beau, Steve, had given it to me.

He had also given me my very first grown up kiss.

Saturday night, November 23, 1963.

You history buffs will have immediately noticed this date, of course.  President Kennedy had been assassinated in Dallas the day before.  Even at 14, I was reeling like the rest of the country.  Not only from the sense of immense and stupefying loss, but I had never seen a teacher cry before like Mrs. Burns did when we were called back to Advisory and she told us the terrible news.

The next night, Steve and I were at the movies watching this.

Somewhere during this epic, Steve leaned over and kissed me.

I don’t remember the rest of the movie.

I do remember that on that New Year’s Eve, we necked up a storm in my basement.

And that’s why Steve bought me the adding machine- to add up all our kisses, of course.

There were more charms.

This.

This.

And this.

But the one that matters most, now that I have had sixty plus years to think about it, is this one. Without a doubt.

A four leaf clover.  For luck.

Because I’m starting to believe that in the end, it all comes down to luck.  Good. Or bad.

I’ve had my fair share of both.  No complaints.

I had a charm bracelet and I had it stolen.

I’ve had husbands- some good, some bad- but I’ve learned important things from all of them.

I’ve been lucky enough to have great friends.

I’ve been lucky enough to have good health. (Knock on wood.)

I’ve been lucky enough to have been given some brains, survival skills and some staying power.

And I’ve been lucky enough to have been born curious.  I want to see what the next charm on the bracelet of Life will be.

Maybe this one.