As I write this, I’m on hour 19 of my current day. It started at 5:30 a.m. when I woke up knowing I would have breakfast with my Daddy before finally heading home after 10 days of travel. I enjoyed my too-short breakfast and spent seven hours driving home, exhausted, tense, stiff, and sore. I walked in the door of my home, ready to see my boys after a month apart, only to discover that I’d been robbed.
No one was hurt. It was clearly a crime of opportunity – they took only what was easy to take. I guess it works to my advantage that I have very little of financial value. They stole my oldest son’s Nintendo Wii and every accessory we have for it (oddly enough, they didn’t take games, DVDs, CDs, DVD players, or the TV – guess they only had so much room in their thieving little hands). The Wii can be replaced. I thank God I bought the thing used…I hate that it was a gift from “Santa” and my oldest is crushed at its loss.
My mind, already zapped from the past several days, followed by a grueling drive couldn’t quite process what had happened. I thought I was crazy as I looked every where for the Wii, wondering if I’d moved it in my sleep. Locks were changed, police called (under orders from my Daddy), and the probable point of entry was found – a door in my bedroom. A door with a broken lock.
The lock is fixed now. I’ll add a chain latch to it tomorrow. The front door has a new set of locks. The deputy sheriff who came to take my information assured me that I live in a very safe neighborhood – this was the first burglary he’d dealt with in the two years that my neighborhood had been part of his patrol. He told me about a Watch program to use when I go out of town which will ensure that deputies patrol my neighborhood while I’m gone, driving by my house.
All of these things should make me feel a bit safer, maybe a little secure. But I’m not. I’m a basketcase. I could blame it on the 19 hour day, the 5 day business conference, the 10 days of travel…but let’s call it like it is. I’m scared shitless. My little sense of security, my little personal bubble, has been breached.
I have always valued safety and security over most other things. It takes a lot for me to leave my comfort zone in any facet – I do it, but not without tremendous stress first. I crave a sense of security.
Yes, I know, nothing in life is truly safe. And if I play it too safe, I may miss out on opportunities in life. At this moment, that’s not the kind of safety that I mean. I don’t want to jump at the normal creakings in my house. I don’t want to peek around corners or over my shoulder every 30 seconds wondering if someone is going to get me. I don’t want to go be afraid to enter my own bedroom because of the door.
I cried this evening – not at the loss of a game console, but because I didn’t feel safe. And I questioned, for a moment, my ability to keep my boys safe. All the what-ifs floated through my mind. What if we’d been home? What if they came back? What if? What if? What if?
Yes, it could have been worse. Yes, it’s just material things that will eventually be replaced. Yes, I will eventually feel a little better. And yes, I will remember this forever – and hopefully, I will stay diligent. Right now, though? Right now, I just want to feel safe again.