The last 27 hours are ones that I'd like to forget. It was any other day except the fact that we left work at a reasonable 5p to attempt some Christmas shopping. The phone rang and perplexed, my husband answered it. The alarm had been triggered. We looked at each other blankly and repeated into the handset that it wasn't us and they could freely dispatch the police. The drive home was silent. Both of our minds racing, wondering, what happened, was it anything, did something happen? The phone rang again, broken glass was found and the police were at the house. Someone would be waiting for us. We sat in traffic, knowing the drive would be no shorter than 30 minutes. The radio was so low that it might as well have been off.
My head raced. I knew my jewelry was not as secure as it could be. The safe that we had talked about for months never seemed to get purchased. To no ones fault. Somehow I knew. We arrived, jumped out of the car and ran inside. I quickly ran to my spot and sure enough 100% empty. Memories, feelings, beauty and it was all gone. Somehow after years of moving items from childhood and having never lost a piece myself, they were all gone in that instant.
I keep reminding myself that it's just stuff and that's the truth. It can be replaced. Maybe not that same piece from India or the random piece I bought in Brazil after thinking we could take a "free" ride to the jewelry store. But in time, there will be other meanings and other pieces. I still have the most important thing in my world, my husband. We're both safe, healthy and can get through this.
After that moment, we tried to understand the flow, the logic. We tried to reign our minds in to comprehend and ask the necessary questions.
The glass was everywhere, shattered. Pieces kept falling and with each sound, you tense. What is it? What does it want from me? I pace around the house, looking for something else to be out of place. It all seems too familiar and yet, so foreign.
The aftermath continues. The specks of glass don't come up as quickly as I'd like. I fear that we'll be finding them for months to come. While I work on each inch, I see the floor sparkle and all I know is that I missed something. I'm not sure how much or even how to rid the floor, couch, furniture and everything else of that taunting sparkle.
This is just the beginning. I slowly push my mind to remember every piece of jewelry that I once owned. What's unique? Is there something that could trigger an arrest?
I just try to hold myself together. The mind plays tricks on me. You look into the dark, expecting something to appear out of the shadows. I'm not sure if it's relief or more fear when nothing does.
I often feel that I can't explain my thoughts, my feelings, me. Violation is the perfect word. We thought we prepared the house. We thought the precautions were in place. And somehow, it only partially helped. What did we do wrong?