I came home from work on June 18, 2008 with 8-month-old BooBoo and 5-year-old Boy Wonder to find the door from the garage into the house ajar. “How odd,” I thought as I silently cursed my husband for failing to not only lock the door, but close it on his way to work.
I unloaded the kids, associated diaper bags, backpacks and briefcases only to trip on my husband’s guitar carelessly left in the middle of the family room. “Ugh!” I muttered as I silently cursed out my husband yet again.
I made my way upstairs to find random lights left on and drawers left open. Annoyed, I picked up the phone and angrily dialed my husband.
Me: Yeah, hi. What were you doing this morning? You left doors open, lights on, and a guitar right in the middle the floor. Were you in some kind of hurry?
Husband: Check the back door NOW!
Me: It’s open.
Husband: Lori, grab the kids and get out of the house NOW! Call the cops; I’m on my way.
My heart sank; fear coursed through my veins. Our house, the house we’d selected for the great neighborhood, the house that we’d been in for just over a year, the house designed to protect and shelter my loving family had been violated. The burglar stole more than just stuff; he stole heirloom pieces that belonged to my husband’s deceased father. He stole every last piece of jewelry that ever meant anything to me. He ever stole the silver dollars my son so proudly collected from a child’s bedroom, along with a video camera bag that contained very precious videotapes of my children. It was all gone and none of that “stuff” could ever be replaced.
I can’t put into words the fear, anger, and loss that comes from a home burglary. To imagine a stranger walking through your home taking whatever he wanted for the keeping. The thought made me physically sick. He knew what we looked like, he saw the baby swing, and he stole what we worked so hard for anyway.
And just so you know, a burglary isn’t always as obvious as you might think. There were no obvious signs of forced entry; the police officer had to find where the intruder broke in.
Unlike in the movies, my house wasn’t turned upside down as a result of this burglary. What I was left with were subtle signs and millions of questions.
Did the burglar steal spare house keys or car keys? Will he come back for what he missed? Why was our house chosen?
Why was our house chosen? The million dollar question…[read more]