This is my memory necklace. The collection was started for me in 1970 by my Pentagon summer job co-workers. As a parting gift I got a Pentagon charm. I was impressed by the density of the sterling silver and by my boss's generosity in gifting me after only 3 months of work. I had nothing to attach the charm to. For years, maybe 15, it just hung out with my other jewelry in a box somewhere. Every now and then I would come across it when I purged unused items or changed boxes.

One day I found the sterling filigree heart. It's my lucky charm. I found it outside, tarnished and dirty, but it cleaned right up. I wonder where it came from and who might have lost it and about my luck coming from someone's loss.

The next charm I acquired is the bear. It's a souvenir of Shenandoah National Park which is also a personal landmark. Mom and Dad took us to the park often. Later I took myself there whenever I got the chance. I bought the charm when I took my kids there in 1985. The inside joke is that I've never seen a bear outside of a zoo.

At this point I decided I had a collection and maybe a hobby. I bought the sterling charm holder in the 80's, attached the charms and started intentionally searching for additions. Instead of making purposeful excursions for charms, my plan is to search whenever I happen upon charm sellers. I don't collect just any charm or for every occasion. I guess you've noticed that by now. I wait for something to strike me and then for the charm to appear.

When I saw the Virginia charm, it occurred to me that I had spent a large part of my life in Virginia and should have a memento. I can't remember where I bought it, but someplace weird, like a botanical garden.

I lived at the beach for a couple of years so I got the shell. I love beaches: love laying in the sun and baking, love swimming in salt water, love the waves, the gulls, the sandpipers, the crabs, the sand and the stuff that gets washed up on shore. I still kick myself for not picking up a sample of sand in Cyprus.

When my daughter got old enough to buy presents, she gave me the "Best Mom" charm. The joke in this one is that I'm her only Mom. Still, it's a lovely sentiment.

The moon and star charm I bought as a souvenir of a15-year relationship. I can't remember in which year I bought it, but we had been together for many years by that point. It's reminds me of the words from a Neil Diamond song, "You are the sun, I am the moon." Or in this case, "You are the moon and I am a star."

I also spent a large part of my life living in Germany. I was raised there for six years. In 2002, I went back for my first visit since 1962. Many things were just as I remembered them but better, like my relatives. Other things were much altered, like the house I had lived in, or gone, like my grandparents cemetery plot. My mother, who visits Germany just about every year (and went with me that year), gave me the charm.

When the sun went out of my life, I bought the butterfly—a symbol of my new life. I searched for just the right silver butterfly. I wore it all by itself for a year and then hooked it on with the other charms.

I don't wear the necklace often because I'm not really a jewelry person. The clasp comes open sometimes and the charms fall off. Fortunately, I never lost any. Last time I pretty much just shoved them back on, so the chronological order is a little off.

Memories are bridges joining times. As I look at my charms, I straddle all the good times of my life all at once. I also amuse myself by contemplating the chances that brought me these memories. Life is so arbitrary.