We've been robbed
Fri, 06 Aug 2021 02:12:26 +0000
Last Monday, we got robbed.
Luke’s car got broken into and all our stuff got stolen. When I say all our stuff, I mean it: both our hiking packs. All our hiking gear. Our sleeping bags, our camping equipment. Luke’s tools.
I only got robbed once before. When I was 7 or 8 years old, I was camping in France with my parents and someone smashed a window in our RV. I remember coming back to it, finding the broken glass on the pavement, walking in to what we had left, which looked the same but different.
I remember how violated I felt. Some stranger had gone through my stuff. I immediately climbed up to my loft bed, terrified that my teddy bear would be gone. But there it was, my Orso Bruno, still peacefully tucked under the covers. I was so relieved they hadn’t taken him. He was (and still is) my most precious possession.
This time round, Orso Bruno was also the first thing I thought about. When Luke called me to let me know our stuff was gone, my first thought was, Thank god Orso Bruno wasn’t in the car.
But other things were, things that might mean nothing to the person who stole them, but meant so much to me. My hiking boots needed replacing anyway, but they took me on so many adventures. My hiking pack was 11 years old and probably worth $20, but it travelled the world with me. My ukulele was a birthday present from Giac, the year we got together. There were also things that I was going to give away, gifts I had planned and was excited about. There were practical things (my electric toothbrush charger) that are a pain to replace, and sentimental items (my Grandpa’s fountain pen) that are priceless and irreplaceable. I will never forgive myself for letting this happen.
And these are just my things. I obviously can’t speak for Luke, but one thing I can say is that 99% of what he talks about is how much he loves making stuff, and now that his tools are gone he’ll have to invest a bunch of time and money to replace everything.
But it’s not even the time and money. Luke’s tools and our hiking gear represented years of extreme pickiness in selecting exactly the right items we wanted. The perfect soldering iron, the perfect pair of merino socks. And yes, of course we can just go and buy new stuff, but you can’t put a price tag on the whole experience of getting back what we had been collecting over the years.
I am extremely intentional with what I bring into my life. I have one of everything and love everything I own. I don’t have any spares because this is the way I choose to live.
So now that everything is gone, I’m feeling… naked. It’s true that material possessions are just things, but when you are so deliberate about what you own, the things you have serve a purpose and are very essential.
I have been processing a lot these days. and making lists of things I will need to replace more urgently. I miss my hiking boots the most. I am sad and angry and demoralised. I have been trying really hard to restore my faith in humanity and when things like this happen, I wonder why I even bother.
But I know things will get better. Life carries on. I will be ok. Everything will be ok.
Eventually.