Burgled and Grateful

BEING GRATEFUL...FOR WHAT WE DON’T HAVE

Thelma T. Reyna

 

Our hearts sank when we entered our home near midnight

and realized that something was wrong.

 

It had been a magnificent Saturday night. My son and I had attended a glittering, art-filled community mixer. We drove home happily reflecting on the camaraderie and epicurean delights that suffused the magical evening.

 

But when we walked into our empty house, we noticed all the lights were on. We saw the back sliding door wide open, its curtains billowing into darkness. The side door was ajar. I stepped on a long, splintered piece of wood on the kitchen floor. 

 

We realized that our home had been broken into.

 

The Scene of the Crime

 

Somebody—more than one individual, judging by evidence—had kicked in the side door leading to our kitchen. The door’s deadbolt and doorknob were destroyed, along with half of the door jamb and part of the adjoining wall, where the deadbolt had been ripped out of the frame. The floor around the door was littered with twisted nails, jagged wood, and pieces of brass from the locks. 

 

We went cautiously room through room after phoning the sheriff. We avoided touching anything, hoping the intruders had left fingerprints. They had been everywhere: open drawers and closet doors, clothing dangling from hangers and strewn on the floor, purses and bags thrown on beds and dressers, two jewelry boxes askew on a bed and a table. I noticed that several pairs of my gold earrings were gone.

 

Then my heart sank further: my son’s safe was stolen. Concealed in a corner of his closet, the small safe contained part of his silver coin collection and several of his registered guns. He estimated the value of this loss at over $9,000. The safe, when empty, had required two strong men to carry. Filled as it was, it would have weighed almost 200 pounds. We learned the following day that the thieves had stolen a dolly from our backyard and apparently used this to haul the safe out of the house and through a chained, but not securely locked, driveway gate. 

 

We were stunned. We have lived in our home for 40 years and never been burglarized, though some neighbors have been. For most of those years, our family has had large dogs that guarded our gate faithfully and probably frightened away the same thieves who targeted neighbors. We always considered ourselves lucky. 

 

 

Measuring the Damage

 

We no longer had a dog. It cost us almost $2,000 to repair the door and concomitant damage and install high-security locks. It took two men half the day, one man the full day, to put things aright again: the king’s men bringing wholeness.  Four deputy sheriffs, at different points, came to our home to assess the damage and interrogate. A detective came on the fourth day. 

 

My son and I were most concerned about the three guns in his safe, and the danger to our community if the safe were cracked by the thieves. Where might the guns end up?  Will these thieves return to our home—now that they knew “the lay of the land”—armed with my son’s guns, to finish the job? There were valuables they had seen but, for whatever reason, had not stolen.

 

For several days afterward, we feared to leave our house. What if they’ll break in through a window? We need to let them see that the house is occupied. But we also feared being home. What if they come in the middle of the night? What if, indeed, they come back with guns? 

 

We felt violated. The security we had relished for years in our house, which we lock even when we’re home, vanished that night. In a quest to feel whole again, to feel safe again, we installed a whole-house alarm system.

 

Deep Gratefulness...For What Didn’t Happen

 

Afterward, my son and I discussed what might have been. We had much cause for gratitude: we weren’t home when the thieves came; no children were present; many items of sentimental value that could have been taken, weren’t.  In 40 years of safety, we’d become complacent, as our inadequate driveway gate proved. But we’re wiser now, withoutfalse notions of inviolability.

 

Were the thieves amateurs? Very likely. Were they rushed for time? Also likely. They could have vandalized walls, floors, mirrors, and furniture; but, aside from the point of entry, no physical damage occurred. We are grateful for this.

 

In short, we are grateful for what we don’t have:  immense damage and losses, a ruined home. We have a violated  home, a transgressed  home, which is heart-breaking enough. But we didn’t lose a home. Or a life.

 

And for that, we are deeply grateful.