TGIF! That’s what I shouted when I woke up on a Friday, when I left my house for my early morning commute, and that evening as I celebrated the end of another workweek out on the town.
I returned home not to my typical solace, but to dread. My TGIF’s wildly turn to “What the …?’s.” There on the carpet, at the inside rear of my house, sat a shimmering pile of crystals. My double-paned, sliding glass door was bashed into thousands of tempered shards. The glass was alive; it hissed, popped and mocked me.
I’d been robbed!
Someone broke into my home, did some damage, ransacked my files and drawers, and extruded my private life and my stuff. Stuff for which I worked hard for. At a job. Stuff they shoved into my own king-sized pillowcase on their free-for-all shopping spree.
I have a good vocabulary and love all the letters in the alphabet, but the words in the forefront of my mind begin with “F,” and I don’t mean, “Focus.” If I had a dollar for every swear word I dropped, I’d have made back my losses by now. But, after a week’s worth, anger and fear is exhausting. It doesn’t feel good. It’s not who I am. I want me back.
Is there a “Love This Day,” a positive side—which I’m known for—in this? I immediately switch gears to, “It could have been worse.” And maybe this is the scale to view all of life’s disruptions and challenges—to find something to be grateful for no matter how awful is the moment?
So, I decided to STOP IT! To drop my last F-bomb concerning this violation, be slightly crabby through a tiresome workout session, and choose a new perspective. Below are a few of my thoughts as I underwent this transformation:
- Thieves don’t steal books, because books are heavy and crooks don’t like to work too hard, so I have cases and shelves of books going for me. Invest in things too heavy to haul in hurry.
- Self-discovery: I guess I really do like expensive, sparkly, shiny jewels after all. This is good to know about myself.
- Crooks can take my stuff, gifts given to me by beloved friends, but they can’t take the memories of my time spent with them.
- Odds are in my favor that robbers won’t hit my house again. They will all have a good laugh on the street when they hear I have the smallest, crappiest T.V. in the neighborhood.
- What do I value most? Friends! Dear criminals, don’t steal my friends.
- There are far more good people in the world than bad. Focus (the superior F-word) on the good.
- At least they didn’t take my wine, and it’s time to drink some right now. Most expensive first.
- They might even have an inkling of a conscience in their desperate, shriveling souls. They completely cleaned out my drawers but left my little guide on “How to Pray the Rosary.” They should have read this bedtime story to be reminded of “their calling to an eternal life of Paradise” rather than a short, loser-y life of crime. Poor suckers need a Hail Mary. I could use one myself.
This experience is another lesson on how to handle life’s difficulties. I’ve always said sadness stems from two things: either loss we haven’t yet grieved or we’re feeling sorry for ourselves. I got hit with a dose of both this past week. I got F-bomb-mad, I continue to grieve my losses (and my sparkly things that brought me joy), and now it’s time to get back to me.
When I told my mom about it, she grieved a bit with me and then said, “Laura, don’t those crooks think they look STUPID walking around the neighborhood carrying a pillowcase? I mean, who does that? You think they’d at least come prepared.” Laughter replaced the sadness.
I hope you can find humor to get you through your own tough circumstances.
#LoveThisDay (after the anger, the F-bombs, and the grief.)
Please read my memoir, BERING SEA STRONG, to experience what it was like to spend three months as the only woman and scientist working alongside 25 men aboard a commercial fishing vessel on Alaska’s high seas.