A few weeks ago I started a new job that I love. And a week ago, on a rainy night, all of my stuff was stolen from the parking lot of my new job. My Coach purse, work bag, brand new Ipad, identification, credit cards, pictures, books, you name it, gone. The guy ran off with everything important to me. He actually opened my car door while I was in the car and took everything. And, because I already had my seat belt on (I'm a responsible driver), I wasn't fast enough to grab him and my stuff. I stomped my feet, screamed "fucker!" at him (I'm sure this was really fun to watch on the security camera) and called 911.
According to the police and anyone with a healthy sense of survival, getting out of your car to go after someone after they've robbed you is not the best choice. I explained to Peter that I was surprised it even happened because I thought I looked like a bad ass. He informed me I look like a small blonde woman.
What I feel like
What Peter says I look like
I was shaking as I told the cops what happened. I was shaking as Pete drove me home. I was shaking when I called the credit card companies and the credit bureau to put alerts on my accounts. I was shaking when I called Apple about the security of my Ipad. I was shaking when I told Pete to go get new locks for the house because this guy had our address and our house keys.
Then, about 2 hours after it all happened, I stopped shaking. I looked at my babies, who were trying really hard to act like things were normal, like their dad asked them to. The Moose kept trying to give me backrubs (sweet, but not normal) and The Rock was not listening and intentionally doing what I asked him not to (totally normal). And all of the injustice, anger and violation kind of swirled about and went down the drain like bathwater. Because all that really is important to me is right here. These babies are fine.
Pete went back to the scene of the crime and found my purse in a dumpster, with all my id and house keys etc. The cash and Ipad are gone for good. Some of my stuff is ruined. All in all, I've lost about $1700 worth of stuff. But you know what? It's stuff. And I really could care less. The babies are safe and honest to goodness, it is all I care about.
See, maybe if we own stuff that we feel is irreplaceable, perhaps that means that we place too much emphasis on our stuff. If we can't let it go, maybe we shouldn't own it in the first place. I'm not saying I don't want my Coach purse or my Ipad back - I really do. I bought the Ipad for Max so it really sucks that he doesn't have it now. And I might have an unhealthy relationship with my purse and I might have even had a conversations with it. But if I decided to be upset about the stuff rather than focus on the fact that the people who ARE irreplaceable are home and safe (although they make me crazy because they won't go to bed), I'd really be missing the whole point of life. And this whole thing reminds me to kiss and hug my babies every day because life is just plain weird. No matter what happens, they will know I love them to the core.
At the end of the day, I didn't really lose much. I did gain a great story however. And on a Sunshine-kind of day, I'd like to think the thief used my money for fruits and vegetables and some whole grain bread for his family. And that the Ipad is going to be a birthday gift for his kid, if he can just figure out how to reset it. I'd like to think that my "charitable donation" to the community went to some good.
