The mind is a strange repository of facts, figures, trivia, and memories.
Late last night, I got a call that my home 3000 miles away was broken into. It’s the second time a place I’ve lived in has been burglarized, on two different coasts. Amidst the myriad emotions – the feeling of violation, the shock of insecurity, the wondering of why me, the unknown sense of what was stolen – I had a momentary flash on a 1980s sitcom.
It’s amazing what sticks with you. I thought about an episode of “Growing Pains,” ABC’s nuclear family answer to NBC’s originally hippie parents centric “Family Ties.” In the eight episode of season three (I had to google it), the Seavers’ home is burglarized. Here’s the IMDb synopsis:
Each Seaver goes through various stages of grief and insecurity and ultimately psychiatrist patriarch Jason Seaver has a family meeting intervention in an empty room of the house, talking about what was stolen and taken and what can never be stolen or taken.
I couldn’t get ahold of my neighbor (turned out she was already outside dealing with the officer) so I called my best friend and asked a huge favor. Brent and Tamela drove up from [REDACTED] and were lifesavers as well.
I sent the three of them this note this morning as I head to the airport.
Hi, Brent, Tamela and Louise! I’m headed to the airport here for a flight to Europe to run a marathon. I almost canceled it and flew back there to check on the house but honestly you all did everything (and then some!) that I might have done. I cannot thank you enough for your late night efforts and support.
I feel pretty powerless and helpless and maybe even a little heartbroken that the place was broken into. But I feel heartened to know I have such good friends. You all are spectacular, inherently good people who I’m always impressed with due to your kindness and compassion for others. Last night I really needed you and you helped me without hesitation. I am lucky to know you and that’s what I am choosing to remember from last night more than anything else.
I’m a bit bleary eyed from the phone calls and trying to keep up with what was happening from afar. Whatever Andres needs money-wise to board up the place or hopefully for a new glass panel to replace it, I’m happy to get a check out to him from my online billpay — if you speak to him please ask him to just shoot me an email or text with the details and I’ll get a billpay check sent out ASAP.
Again, I’m very thankful to have you all in my life – while being burglarized is not a good feeling, knowing there are people like you in the world and in my life is a great feeling indeed.
Have a better Thursday than Wednesday night!
Yours,
Kevin
I’m trying to put on a brave face as I wait to board my flight. I feel helpless and foolish to be jetting off to a marathon but am not sure what I could do other than wander the house trying to figure out what the criminals did and what they stole.
The police and Brent separately told me it didn’t look like the place had been ransacked so maybe the alarm klaxon scared them off… and yet they said all the lights were on in the house which means somebody had been in there and switched them on looking for stuff. I don’t know if I should feel validated that I cleaned up a little before leaving and it must be acceptably declutterred if the place doesn’t look tossed (like it often does when I’m lazy). Or maybe I should feel insulted that the crooks deemed none of my stuff worth taking. Mom asked me what the most monetarily valuable thing was in the house (as mementos, photos, and trinkets are priceless only to me). I said outside of the usual electronics (tv, desktop etc) it’s perhaps a framed “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” movie poster that’s probably ebay-able for $50. I should redact that in case thieves are casing my blog for heistable baubles… but ya know what? It’s a $50 item that is worth $50 only to fans. It’d probably be harder to fence for a good price than a Picasso. For the record I have no Picassos.
Again, I’m trying to make light as I sit here at gate 78 waiting to board. I’m feeling depressed, guilty, foolish, and powerless. Stockholm is prepaid so it felt wrong to throw that money away to go and see what (if anything) was stolen. I already know my sense of security and comfort are missing.
I think this trip is going to be a rough one. I don’t feel like traveling. I don’t feel like running. I just feel depressed. But maybe that’s precisely when I need to be traveling and running.
<sigh>
Show me that smile again…
Don’t waste another minute on your crying…