When Your Safe Place Doesn’t Feel Safe

On October 30, 2014October 30, 2014 By AngeliaIn Home Invasion, Life is what you make it., Mon Dieu! and all that stuff.58 Comments

Six years, five months, three days, and 18 hours, I met my husband for the first time on the driveway of his beautiful home.

Four years, one month, two days and 2 hours, I moved into his beautiful home and I loved our quiet neighborhood.

Two years, four months, two days, and 8 hours, I found joy in the solitude of my new telecommuting job. A job I can do from the comforts of my office nestled inside my beloved home in my quiet neighborhood.

1 day, 23 hours, and 2 minutes, I lose my peace. I lose my comfort. I lose my home to a shattering invasion.

Thank God, I wasn’t at home.

But just barely…

See, my husband and I had left the house together at 730 am. We took the girls to school and then he took me to a Doctor’s appointment at 8am. I had crippling abdominal pain all weekend and my doctor sent me to have an ultrasound on my abdomen to see if they could find the cause. The ultrasound hurt like HECK. The kind assistance helpfully pointed out my “sore” spot based on my grimacing face. So helpful, but whatever it takes to learn (and stop) the painful episodes.

After the torture, we stopped for gas, and to pick up my husband’s dry cleaning. Then a quick stop for a breakfast sandwich through a quick drive-in.

All of these things taken care of within three miles from our home, and all of it done pretty close to the start of my shift (9am). We only ran about 15 mins late. I had no idea how long the ultrasound would last, so I was feeling pretty good about our timing.

We pull up to our house and the first thing we see is a car in our neighbor’s driveway. Our neighbor that moved out about a month ago. We did know from the owner the house would be occupied next week, and in fact, met our new neighbors Sunday afternoon. They were not moving from Georgia until next week. And they did not drive a car with Texas plates that looked like that.

I didn’t question it. Why would I? It’s just a car in the drive-way. Maybe a cleaning person? Who knows? But my husband did not like it. He insisted it didn’t belong. And he walked to the end of the driveway and took a photo of the car.

My hands were full and I waited for him to unlock our door. He walked back over and unlocked the door, but didn’t miss a beat. He went back to the neighbor’s house as he insisted something wasn’t right.

I pause a moment to look at the car again. I still don’t see anything menacing. I open our front door and walk into the foyer. It is that moment. The moment I realize the car has everything to do with us and nothing to do with our empty neighbor’s house. I see my iMac on the dining room window sill. It is the only thing that registers from the entire scene. I don’t see the glass. I don’t see a burglary in progress. Just that. My iMac in a place I did not leave it.

I slowly back out of the house. I am frantically looking for Jason who has his phone and is clear across the neighbor’s yard. I motion for him to COME HERE. He says, “I think I hear someone walking over here.” I shake my head and make crazy jumping head motions to get him to COME HERE. He does. And as soon as we are side by side walking into our house. The mysterious car peels out from next door.

We watch where it goes and which way it turns.

I didn’t want to enter our house at that point. I knew what I would find. Precious things taken. Lost forever. And for what? Because someone decided to be a professional criminal, instead of a salesman? It’s horrifying feeling to be violated. I thought of all the things in easy reach of eager hands. My camera bag left at the dining room table. My other camera bag left on the couch. Most likely those are taken my cameras! I felt stones churn in my belly as we slowly surveyed the damage in the kitchen.

Glass everywhere.

The mess is devastating.

We immediately see how they gained access as both the front and back door are still locked.

They threw a fireplace log through our beautiful window.

At this point, I am wondering where my kitty is. There is no sign of her…and all this glass! Is she cut? Is she bleeding somewhere? My heart hurts. I am in shock. That is when Jason says to get out of the house. We are a priority one and the police are on their way.

We wait while they investigate the house and check for anyone still inside. My old black lab is put outside to keep her off the glass. She was the only dog not locked in a crate. She is twelve-years-old. I doubt the poor girl had the strength to stand up to them. Those old bones don’t move so quick and I am very grateful they didn’t hurt her.

We answer a billion questions about where things were and what they might have touched.
© 2014 Angelia's Photography
Both iMacs were moved from the office. Those were definitely handled. The police took lots of time to dust for prints on them and the window glass. No blood was found. I don’t know how.

Eventually, they gathered up all the evidence they could (and the vehicle’s tag number from my husband’s picture!).

They left us to clean-up the astounding amount of glass.

© 2014 Angelia's Photography
Our biggest loss, we discovered in our bedroom. They took my husband’s jewelry box, dumping out all the credit cards and passport, but taking all his Marine coins and watches.

They dumped our nightstand drawers on the bed and dug out all my husband’s empty gun boxes. Yes, empty! All his guns locked in the gun safe.

The other photo is the place my jewelry box used to be. Yeah. They got it too. Along with every piece of jewelry my deceased step-father ever gave me. I doubt they get much for trinkets I received in a gold box at Christmastime. Their monetary value greatly diminished, but their sentimental value is crushing. I try to tell myself they are just things: my Mom’s charm bracelet, her baby ring, and baby bracelet. But it is hard. None of it is replaceable.

These thieves took more than my valuables. They took a chunk of my heart. They took my peace and they took my safety. I don’t know that I will ever heal from the intrusion.

I found my baby kitty under Molly’s bed. Her eyes as big as saucers and she ran to me as soon as I called her. She looked so scared, but completely free of any cuts.

I found BOTH camera bags. One was still at the kitchen table, but it was covered by my husband’s shirt. One was in a pink bag on the couch that said Somebody special calls me Grammy. Apparently, a pink Grandma bag didn’t look valuable to them.

We almost walked in on this burglary in progress (or did). I could have (should have) been home when it happened. The person waiting in the car might have used a gun if Jason hadn’t moved out of the driveway. None of these things escape my conscience.

Last night, we installed an alarm system. An interactive high-tech alarm system. It has a glass break sensor. If the window ever breaks again, it will set the alarm off. There is a keypad in the office AND the bedroom. No matter which part of the house I go, I have the security of a panic button.

I am still broken by the things we lost and relieved over the things we didn’t. I am still a little jumpy at home alone. But the new security system helps.

Tuesday morning at 9:15 AM, I discovered how easily a robber can wreck your safety, and your quiet neighborhood. I discovered I wasn’t exempt from clear and present danger that walks in our world today. Maybe learning these things will keep my attention on the surroundings. To question and not accept. And to guard valuables in heavy lock boxes and places they wouldn’t look.

Most of all, I hope this story helps save someone else from the same distress. Check your security. Check where your valuables are. And more than anything, be aware of something out-of-place in your neighborhood.

This is the time of year for robberies. Christmas is coming…

Be safe, friends.

Fractured Moments

On May 2, 2011May 3, 2011 By AngeliaIn In the lives of children, Mon Dieu! and all that stuff.47 Comments

A frantic voice calling hello on a voice mail; scared, and hurt. A stranger telling you from your husband’s phone that they were in an accident. They. The family. My family. Two little girls – my stepdaughters, my husband, and………my teenage daughter? Was she with them?

I can’t understand him. This stranger. This man with my husband’s phone. I start to panic. How will I know where they are, or what happened? I hear a hospital name. THAT I do know.

Shaking……..Shocked……..Shocking……..I leave. I don’t know what I’ll find, but I head to the hospital.

I text my daughter. TM: Were you with them?

She is always with them, but she had told me she might go to a friend’s house. Did she?

There was no reply.

They weren’t at the hospital. There are no ambulances in dock. No sirens. Nothing.

The silence is deafening. The unknown – terrifying – pressing and pressing its steely claws of fear.

My phone rings and it’s my husband’s name, but it’s not him. It is a paramedic telling me my two step-daughters are being transported to the children’s hospital in downtown. My husband, and sixteen-year old daughter to the hospital across the street from the children. This? Made it very real.

I left the wrong hospital. I still didn’t know if they were okay or not, but I knew it was very serious.

My husband’s brother is with me. He is calm. I feed off his calm. I need calm, because I so badly want to fall apart. But I can’t. Not now. Maybe? Not ever.

I use the phone. Shaking hands dial the number. I call the mom of my four, and seven-year old step daughters. I call her to tell her…….both of her children are on the way to a children’s hospital by ambulance.

And I don’t know. I don’t know anything.

It is the most helpless feeling in the world. I hear her pain, her panic, her raw emotion. I wish I could help her, comfort her, but I am numb.

I have to pick which hospital I go to. I have to choose a room, and a person. I can’t see all four. I can’t know all at once.

I need to pray……. but I can’t remember how to pray. I want to cry……..but I can’t remember to do that either.

All I can do is repeat the phrase going through my mind. I trust you, Lord. I trust you. I know you will keep my family safe. I know you won’t give me anything I can’t handle. I trust you, Lord. I do.

In the ER, in a tiny room off the red line. I see my daughter’s gray-blue eyes. They are just above the rim of her neck brace. She has blood streaks all over legs. A spot of dried blood on her forehead and in her ear. She cradles her right hand covered in a bloody gauze. But she is awake. She is aware. She knows I’m here.

I want to cry, but I can’t. They are taking her off the back board.

My husband is around the corner. I find him. I see blood. So much blood. He is in a neck brace too. They are cutting his clothes off. But I see his clear blue eyes. I hear him talk. I bend my face over him. I am here.

Tears well, but they do not fall.

The paramedics tell me the little girls are at the ER and in rooms. Sydney tells me they were okay when she was with them, just scared, but not hurt (I hope).

I try to make sense of what happened and how. I ask questions.

I hear different versions from traumatized accounts.

I try to piece it together. The back drivers side tire struck by a turning truck. The Jeep rolled and landed upright. Pieces all around.

I head across the street. I have to see the little girls. My husband, their dad, on a stretcher in the ER needs me to see the little girls. My eyes spot the littlest one first. She is so scared. I can see it in her lower lip quiver. I ask her if she can speak and she nods. She takes a deep breath and says, “Yes, I can.” Using her brave voice with no quiver. Breaks my heart. I touch her silky hair. Her little voice so small trying to be so big.

The oldest step-daughter, Molly, smiles when she sees me. Her smile is all I see beneath the hulking neck brace. I see all her teeth in her bright grin. I almost lose it.

These precious babies…….so brave……so scared………but alive and breathing. I hug them. I kiss them. I tell them I love them. Oh, how much I love them!

I witness…. a miracle.

My family survives a very tragic, and scary ordeal.

Six hours after their arrival, I drive Jason and Sydney home. The little girls released long before to their mother who hugged me when I saw her, because God knows we needed all the hugs we could get.

It was over. They would heal. Emotionally and physically, but they were all still with us by the grace of God. His hand on them. His protection over them. I trust you, Lord. I do.

I visit the wrecker service lot. I see the Jeep. I feel the impact of what my family went through. I finally cry.

2008 JEEP Wrangler rolled.

Point of impact, back tire wheel.

Thick metal chunks were found through the entire car.

The spot where my sixteen-year old sat. Passenger side front.

She was eating an ice cream cone…with sprinkles.

The crushed windshield from the roll.

My step-daughter Bridget always holds this phone and plays music on it. She was holding it when the accident happened.

My step-daughters visit the day after the accident. They look amazing, and more beautiful than ever.

The littlest.

The biggest.

Their faces are so happy. So full of life. So overwhelmingly gorgeous.

We try out the new booster seats for my car. Ones that have the high-back like they had in Dad’s Jeep. But this time…they have a protective head rest too.

New high-back booster with head rest.

The youngest in the car ready to head home.

The new car seats are pink. Of course….

These fractured moments bring me clarity. They breathe new appreciation for our most precious cargo – family. My Sydney survived a horrific accident in the front of a badly crushed vehicle. I will never forget the moment I saw her side of the vehicle. My husband got to hold his children again and tell them he loved them after losing sight of them at the scene and not knowing for many hours how they were and not seeing them for more than 24 hours. I get to appreciate life in a whole new way.

One second. One moment……can change everything.

I know many of you prayed from Facebook. I can’t thank you enough. I believe God heard our cries.

I trust you, Lord. I do.

The Shadow in Me

On November 18, 2010November 18, 2010 By AngeliaIn Angel Lia's Photography, Beautiful Life, Mama Kat's Writing Workshop, Posessed by Nikon, Unfading Beauty35 Comments

Sometimes, we catch a glimpse.

Of beauty.

Of life.

Our gazes wander and search.

For our fascinations.

For our dreams.

Maybe today, we catch our shadow.

Of who we are.

Of who we might be.

Our regal colors of intensity.

For our quest.

For our inspiration.

Maybe, we get lost.

We lose our way.

We lose our sight.

Our plans of peace, a shadow in our hearts.

Of what we want.

Of what we deserve.

But sometimes, our shadows emerge.

Our glimpses become clear.

Our hearts rejoice in the pureness of another day.

In all our glory.

In all our differences.

In every detail.

In every moment.

This poem is dedicated to my friend, and my mother-in-law, Sue Kelcey who has emerged from a brain aneurysm and stroke to tell the entire family and hospital floor how much she loves them. How special they are and to thank them for taking care of her since the end of September. Her heart filled with beautiful intention of getting home.

When I wonder why I am blogging, and what is it all for…..I think of her life journey. A journey that gives me inspiration to do what I do (and stop complaining already!).

I think of the pain she has been through. The struggle of physical therapy and her desire to hold hands with her family to celebrate life. Every memory, of every touch, and every touch, of every day; what kept her pushing through it all. I think of the moment this Sunday, when she hugged her granddaughters to her chest for the first time in months. Heaving sobs of gratefulness into their silky hair and squeezing them close with her one working arm. Every moment, every detail. It was beautiful. Hold on. You never know when your last day is here. Cherish the ones you have.

Encourage love. Encourage acceptance. Speak your heart. Live your dreams. Believe. The shadows are nothing but fear.

What inspires you?

Prompt 2)Write about a time someone made you smile *through the happy tears*

Photos from the Butterfly Conservatory at the State Fair of Texas.

An Unexpected Encounter

On July 30, 2010 By AngeliaIn The Red Dress Club, The Scoop on Poop30 Comments

She stood at the bin squeezing the avocados. One by one; squeeze, handle, and replace. Her fingers moved from one to the next quickly, she furrowed her brow in concentration. The little lines above her nose wrinkled in a twist. She was looking for a ripe one, and she really had no idea how hard, or soft it was supposed to be – hence the disturbance of her features.

I boasted a little knowing every expression, every concern, and every move about her. She was my ex after all. The love of my life. We were together six years, but I hadn’t seen her in several. She looked older, a little more worn, and mature. Her hair was darker underneath with blond streaks dispersed throughout the top. She had gained some weight, but then again, she was too thin the last time I’d seen her. She looked good.

The punch of sorrow to my gut surprised me, because I realized, I still missed her. She was still my one and only. The rawness of our dissolution opened like an old wound. I felt my eczema flare up and burn. My heart thumped wildly. Then, the anger began broiling up (as it always did). I pressed back the floodgates of memories and looked at her again. My heart softening once more.

She had a plastic vegetable sack holding one avocado by this point. She was still digging through the selection. A sliver of hair freed its self from behind her ear and fell across her hazel eye and cheek. She didn’t bother to tuck it back. It swung softly over her eyelashes as she moved from one side of the bin to the other – searching as she stepped and leaned forward.

She finally pulled her hand up to tuck the stray away. That’s when I noticed the ring. A wedding ring. Platinum and sparkling, it flashed in my face. It flashed me back. It illuminated the storm inside. The anger, pain, and memories bubbled over. I clenched my fist, and grit my teeth. Burning as the floodgates opened wide.

I saw her – staring at me from inside her car. The garage door hung by one hinge, the rest of it crumpled by my explosion of fury when I saw all the furniture removed from the house. Everything gone in the two hours I had left to go to the store. The flurry of activity, her friends, and co-workers standing by, eyes boring into my skin like leaches, like I was a leach. How dare they.

The rage was a towering inferno and I glared at her. My eyes piercing and dark. Not once did I look away as she pulled from the driveway. I wanted that to be her last vision of me. To know how much I despised, and hated her for leaving me hanging like the garage door; crumpled and broken.

In an instance, it all came back, filling the emptiness of my soul with outrage. I wanted to let my temper take over. I wanted to rankle her fluid life. Stun her when I appeared, to remind her of what she did to me. I seethed, the ever present heat inside, as it was back in those days. The softness for her – gone.

As much as I wanted to face her, to look her in the eye, and see her fear of me. See the pain of me. I couldn’t move from my place of voyeurism. She had moved on (of course she had). I debated following her, finding out where she lived, and what he looked like. I wanted to quell the ignited blaze. Maybe knowing was my extinguisher. Was that stalking? Jesus, what was I doing?

With a last glance, I backed behind the shelves, expelling a rush of air too full for my chest. Turning down the aisle, I stepped hard toward the exit.

Write a short piece of fiction about seeing an ex in the grocery store from the first person point-of-view. Instead of writing from the female perspective, we want you to write from the male perspective.

This is my first effort at fiction since last year. It might be a little rough, but I needed the practice. I hope you enjoyed.

I am also being featured over at The Scoop on Poop today. If it’s not up yet, you can keep checking back. I’ll be there today and tomorrow. Click on the link or picture. Happy Friday!