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I’ve been debating about writing this blog entry. Food blog or not, writing has always been a release for me for as long as I can remember. So here goes a non food blog.
For those of you that are still reading this, let me take you back to three Fridays ago.This particular Friday, I was invited to tour a brand new hotel in Torrance with a fellow foodie. After such a stressful week, I needed this. Sure enough, I was in my element. I even teased my lunch buddies when they told me they were going back to work & I on the other hand was going to get a massage.
When the event ended, happy & relaxed, I headed back home. I had about 90 mins til I had to leave for my massage. My plan was to walk the dog & just chill until it was time for further relaxation. Sadly those plans would change abruptly.
As I pulled into my driveway, I noticed the front door was wide open and the screen door was flapping rather uneasily. I pulled into the garage & saw that the back door was open. Getting a sinking feeling, I called my husband & let him know he needed to come home right away because we had a break-in. I was shaking furiously. My house…that I transformed into a home over the last few months felt threatening to me. A place that I called my refuge, my sanctuary was now unwelcome to me. I stayed on the sidewalk, refusing to look at it & called the police. The dispatcher told me not to enter the house which I had already obliged.
Still in denial about what had just happened, I crept up slowly to the front entrance without going in. Sure enough I saw our belongings in a crumpled mess by my bedroom door. Our hallway cabinet was wide open. My heart raced as I called out for our dog which met with a shrill silence. “Oh no! They killed my dog!” I thought. My stomach was weighed down by the anchor of an ocean liner.
Once the police arrived & cleared the perimeter, I was escorted into the house. I felt violated. I didn’t want to look at anything. I felt ashamed. “Why did this happen? This is a safe neighborhood, right? Kids play in the streets after school & on weekends. They leave their bikes & toys in the front yard & nothing happens.” Most of the stolen goods could be replaced. It gave me a twisted solace to know that the larger items were not taken and the house was not vandalized. However, one item that can never be replaced was my mom’s jewelry. My mom passed away 3 years ago. These pieces of jewelry were some of the last memories I had of her. “How could someone do something like this? What kind of person would steal from someone else? Who would wear jewelry w/ someone else’s name engraved on it?” The sheer thought of someone else wearing my mom’s jewelry made me sick to my stomach.
My husband arrived shortly and as the police were wrapping up their investigation, we sat on the front stoop of our house feeling utterly empty and defeated. There was also no sign of our dog. Not in the house, not at the pounds either according to the police. Suddenly, we saw a medium sized golden retriever being walked on our street. Could it be? Was it our dog? My husband & I leaped to our feet & ran to the sidewalk. Meanwhile it was apparent it was our dog. She lunged for us as we got closer. She whined rather loudly. She was clearly frightened and happy to see us. Turns out our neighbor saw our dog in our yard running around & then our dog proceeded to head into a busy street. My neighbor saw her trying to dodge traffic & pulled over & picked her up. We were and still are truly thankful our dog was brought to us unharmed. That neighbor of ours showed