It is another Sunday before 6:30am. I believe I was here about this time last Sunday but this past week has not been very kind. I don't know that I want to talk about all the things that weren't right about it. It doesn't make too much sense to keep bringing it up and mulling it over. I figure it is better to keep moving on but sometimes that can be a hard thing to do.
So just briefly, I came home the second time in approximately 18 months and found my house had been broken into. Yes - again. I knew immediately this time when I saw the big muddy foot print in the middle of my front door. I gave it a finger push and sure enough it swung right open revealing the mess that lay inside. For some reason they thought it necessary to break through both the front and back doors damaging most of the framework and sheet rock. They also opened and dumped contents of almost every drawer in the house including the kitchen. I don't know if that was before or after they carted off two flat screen TV's, my laptop upstairs, my mini-acer, digital camera, external hard drive, guitar, drum and I've made this list so many times for the police and insurance my brain doesn't want to process that information any longer.
This happened Wednesday and by Friday morning I was so creeped out I left work at noon. Jay told me to go straight out and get myself a new laptop. I was honestly feeling like there wasn't any point in replacing these things since someone would intrude and take them away again anyway. But I did go and found the machine I am using now and it did make me feel a little better. I've lost data - some. It doesn't help to save things to an external drive when that is taken too but for some lucky reason I had also saved my book pages to a flash drive that was the only thing left on my desk. I don't know why they left it but it was still there. Do you think my angel put his hand over it so they couldn't see it? I don't know how else this one thing was left on my desk. I may need to see about working a little harder on finishing that first draft now, don't I? If it was taken I might have thought the other way but in this case, I think the meaning lies in the other direction. Maybe? Do you think?
Saturday morning I was invited to run early at the Scenic Loop at (what I call) the runners’ haven I had gone to once before and I jumped at the opportunity. I was ready to get out there with a long run and it was gorgeous outdoors and I was putting things behind me. I accomplished 11 miles and was headed home to clean up and spend the rest of my Saturday.
Dante (25), my younger son was at the house when I arrived. He had been in a car accident. Another vehicle had side swiped his car sending him spinning out into a median and flipping his hood open. He was taken away in an ambulance, treated and released. He took a taxi, not to his house but to mine. He had staples in his head and a left foot broken in four places. The boy came home feeling none too good but better and good enough by 9:00pm that evening for me to take him to his house. Dante had actually stopped by to check on me the night before this happened because he had heard about the break in. If the accident had been worse it might have been the last time I saw him.
So I said I didn't want to talk about all this stuff and yet...here I am a page later, a week later, on an early Sunday morning starting again the same but different yet again.
I have a new laptop to get used to, a place to keep going with my book, and a son that is hurt but safe. I still have some cleaning up to do and a few items to replace but that seems to be what living life is about. It was getting me down but not anymore, or not as much. I will pick up from here as if it's a new opportunity to see things differently and keep my mind open to the positives.
There were many ways it could have gone far worse and didn't. I think sometimes I give my angel a handful.
He must have some big hands.
TT
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