Wedding Day

Wedding Day
Enjoy EVERY moment in your wedding gown. You can't stay in it forever...SO UNFAIR!!!!

Tuesday, November 6, 2007


03/06/2008 ---I am editting this post for language. It isn't that the feelings I had weren't valid and the termonology I used did represent what I was thinking. I just don't want anyone young to stumble upon it. In my day-to-day life I am not the type of person who uses foul language to a severe degree. But this is a blow-by-blow of my feelings after coming home to a break in. It was a scary afternoon. This was a therapy of sorts for me, but again, I do not want anyone to be offended.
What I have changed will be italicized.


Warning...not so nice language in a few places....

I'm having trouble today. It was one of those really freaking bad days. I have been a swirl of really interesting words today. Words like fear....

I was afraid today. I came home for lunch as I do almost every day. I like leaving the office. I like the opportunity to feed the cats, mess around on the computer, and just chill out at home. Because I live close to work, it is possible for me to come home for lunch. It is a blessing really. It was a blessing today, but it was also a curse.

How can it be both? It was both because when I drove home I passed the creepy home around the corner, and there was a guy sitting in the front yard like he has been lately, and he was staring as usual. Across the street there were some kind of undesirable people, but they apparently were forced to move on. Anyway the creepy guy always seems to look right through you somehow. It bugged me, and I was uneasy on the ride to our house. Uneasy and bad thoughts in my head of him being a lookout while others broke into the homes on our street. It is a fairly deserted looking street, and I have a very vivid imagination. -=The odd thing was...he probably had nothing to do with what happened next, but it is strange how my mind already knew what was going on before I did.

I backed into the driveway, grabbed my bag and phone, and went to unlock the door. The door's top lock wasn't locked. I didn't think too much of it. I unlocked the bottom lock and opened the door.

I felt uncertainty...

Imagine being at the threshold of your home and seeing that something is just not right. At first things are so bizarre that you aren't sure you are getting the right message from your eyeballs to your brain. You look to your left and you see that there is a piece of wood leaning on your garage entry door, and that door is a quarter of the way open, inside the garage you can see a light is on. You look straight ahead while still standing at the threshold and see that your dresser (your new dresser that you haven't even put clothes in yet) is open. You suddenly get the picture.


This was me at about 12:50 today. Home for lunch, and actually home late. I usually am home by 12:05, but there was a meeting today, and I got out late for lunch. Would things have been different if I got home earlier? You wonder that.


I got the picture all right. I backed out of the entry way and locked the door again. I don't know why I locked the door. I then tried to call my husband, but bad reception made me hang up and call 911. Really that was the thing I was supposed to do, but I really wanted him there. After a few transfers I got to speak to the sheriff's office and fill them in on what was going on.


Someone broke in. I had no idea of what the damage was or what was missing as I quickly got out. I only knew one thing...our home had been violated, and I couldn't stop shaking. I didn't know if the person was still in my home, but the lower lock being locked made me pretty sure they were gone.


I didn't have a clue of anything when the officer came to the house. He had me come in after him, because he said someone could still be around. I tentatively entered in after him, and saw more clearly what happened. Though really it was all in stages.
Stage 1...yep...the door was definitely kicked in. I had wondered how someone got in. I thought about how Scott took care of all the windows, how we locked EVERYTHING always before we left. It didn't matter. These people wanted in and they chose to break their way in through our garage door and through our locked garage entry. You can see that they tried to pry open the door, but the lock was good. I imagine they got pretty pissed, and I imagine that breaking it down hurt them a bit. The wall next to the door looks pretty freaking hurt.


Stage 2...Alex's play room. This is kind of the mini living room that Alex likes to hang out in to play video games and watch television. It is also where he reads and does his homework. I noticed really quickly that whoever broke in decided they would help themselves to the Playstation 2, most of Alex's video games, and all of Scott's video games. My first thought..."freaking jerks." How do you steal toys? How does someone do that? I know people steal for all kinds of reasons, but to go in a room that has legos in it and a few stuffed animals and to just take something that so obviously belongs to a kid. What the heck? There was also a little toy bag that had his Nintendo DS. Again this was obviously a kid's bag (you can tell by the colors and obviously the contents), but someone figured they could make a buck and took it. CREEPS. When I think of how my kid worked and saved up his allowance for many of those things it just pisses me off that some loser would steal them. This person chose to destroy our home rather than actually work for something. JERK. The icing on the cake is that this person actually stole my son's Superman penny bank!

Stage 3...the bedroom...Opened dresser drawers (again a dresser we haven't even had the chance to fill up with clothing yet, because we just purchased it), an upended bed, and opened bedside table drawers. I had a couple of jewelry bags, well not really jewelry bags, but a little leather purse that I put in all of the jewelry I have managed to keep from "back in the day" It contained a baby ring I wore when I was very little, the button I got from The Hard Rock Cafe in New York when it was a cool place to hang out, a necklace that my son made me in kindergarten, a guitar pick from Michael Wilton that I got at an when I saw Queensryche during Operation Mindcrime, a guitar pick from Reb Beach, a Bon Jovi pin, gold hoop earrings my sister-in-law gave me from Mexico, my friendship cord that my friend Alex gave me when he came back from Jamaica, a fucking Barbie key chain, and then there was the earring made out of my Nana's wedding ring (the other one lost in a bus depot when I was trying to help a friend who was trying to run away from home, a ruby ring that my mom gave me, and a lot of other jewelry that is all priceless in that their value was more than a dollar amount could measure because their value was wrapped up in memories.


I freaked out when I first approached my bed side table. I knew I had a lot of memories in that drawer...the pearl necklace I bought when I was 18 (I always wanted one and saved up for a year to get it) -- I wore in my was my something old. I had kept almost all of my jewelry in there including the necklace my husband got me for Valentine's Day I always kept it in the box that it came in. In that drawer was also a heart-shaped box my husband gave me that once had candy in it. It was so pretty and it was from him so I kept it. I had since put in my two Tiffany boxes with my Tiffany's bracelet and Tiffany's necklace in that box. It held them perfectly, and I could tie it up all pretty. For some reason just tying them up in that box made me happy.

I am glad you missed them. It didn't take away my pain at the other losses, but it made me happy to know you are a dink!

I am giving myself that moment of anger. It isn't pretty. I am not proud of it, but I feel. We all feel. This is not the worst thing in the world that can happen to someone, and in fact I have had worse. It is just another horrible violation, and for a moment I allow myself to indulge in being pissed off. I think that may be necessary to healing. I could be wrong, but I don't care.
It sucks that my cheap memories that mean so much to me will probably end up on the road somewhere or in a landfill. I probably will never hold that necklace Alexander made me again. Those memories will be in my mind, and in my journal to read about. The people I love are with me and safe. In the end I win. In the end I am a wife and a mother who works hard and loves harder.


Another note to the person or people who broke into our home. You have my pity. I feel sorry for you because you are a thief. I feel sorry for you because I am a strong believer in "you reap what you sow." In the end you will pay by your own guilt or by a punishment by law. I feel sorry for you because you are so narrow minded and have such low self esteem that you cannot even get a normal job to pay for what you need. have my pity. You have my pity not because you stole from me, but because you stole from my son, and you hurt my husband.

In the end I will move on, and I will forgive. I will forgive for me. I will forgive for my husband. And I will forgive for my son. I will not allow some fool or collection of fools to impact my life and make it negative. I have what you don't, buddy. The sad thing don't even know it.

I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars. Og Mandino

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