This crucifix is probably over 100 years old and belonged to Uncle B and Aunty M, who died within a week of each other. I think it belonged to Uncle B's mother. I daresay it gets some funny looks from the person scanning hand luggage at Glasgow Airport but I don't care.
If I'm in hotels overnight, the crucifix is kept on the bedside table. One of the most touching things that ever happened was when I stayed in a hotel in London for a two-day conference. I returned to the room in the early evening after the meeting to find the cleaner had placed a single flower at Our Lord's feet.