Loss and pain and stuff.

I was at work two days ago and received a call from the police that a burglary had just taken place in my house. The police had gone through some of the papers that had been tossed and found my cell number, bless them, and told me on the phone without my asking them that my dog was OK, which I really appreciated. I drove home, trying not to cry, and walked in to the house and started sobbing. The big glass sliding door leading from the kitchen to the patio had been smashed and was in pieces all over the floor, maybe ten feet of that greenish glass strewn all around. My bedroom had been tossed, all the drawers opened and my clothes were all over the floor. I felt like I was in a movie or dreaming, it just didn't register that this was my house, my home, violated by strangers with evil intentions.

After the police left, I sat at my kitchen bar and made call after call to report it to the insurance, get the glass replaced, the space boarded up, and my car re-keyed. The criminals had taken my jewelry boxes and dumped everything, including my extra car key, into their sack, I suppose. It's amazing how I just sat there, reading a phone book, making polite calls to strangers I needed to help me, and didn't stop until everything was arranged. My son-in-law, the saint, had come to help me, and he cleaned up most of the broken glass, got me lunch, and stayed with me for the afternoon.

I write about this for a few reasons. I want all of us to be safer, to be more careful about our security. I have a new security system in place now and feel a little better. I alerted my neighbors and my friends so that all of them would make their homes safer and hopefully my experience will save even one person from such harm.

They really just took jewelry and cameras, stuff they could carry easily and sell quickly, likely for drug money, per the police. But their little three or four minute intrusion into my home has changed me. I feel scarred and bruised and traumatized. I feel numb. I can't really even put a name to these feelings fully, they are so strange. I'm not materialistic and do my best not to be attached to things, so the loss of the items is really not so troubling, but the intrusion into a place where I felt safe is shattering. I wonder how people living with this stress on a daily basis, like soldiers or even the police, manage to survive. I read about the physical effects of such trauma, how the body's hormones change, and I'm amazed at the far reaching effects of such stress.

I like to view challenges as warnings or lessons, like the universe is trying to save me from greater harm or push me in a certain direction or teach me something. At this moment, I can't even begin to figure it all out and I'm determined not to make changes or decisions while in this emotional state. For sure, I'm feeling much more sympathetic toward people who suffer trauma. And I'm feeling very comforted by the calls and emails and even visits from friends and family who are showing their care and concern. No matter what the lesson is from all this, please consider it a reminder to lock your doors and gates and windows, leave a car in the driveway, turn on a radio or TV when you're out, and report any suspicious behavior in your neighborhood. And know that any kind word to the wounded is greatly appreciated.