Worst fears come true

Not a tragic death in a car wreck or a house fire -- but our house burglarized and trashed.

My mind preoccupied with a package on our doorstep, I came through our side door like I always do and went straight to our front door for the package, never noticing the busted window or the entertainment center in dissarray. Although, I did find it odd our basement light was on, knowing I turned it off before leaving the house ...

It was after I grabbed the package and turned toward our living room that I noticed the set of cords dangling from the entertainment center ... Suddenly, a thunderstorm of emotions startedcrashing around me as I realized the situation.

I quickly broke for our basement rec room and other places throughout the house where valuables are kept. In the basement, a busted-out window, broken glass everywhere, and one whole half of the room rummaged through and trashed with items turned over.

I freaked. And called the police.

Three officers and squad cars were parked in front of the house within minutes … And while I paced and sat on the verge of hyperventilation and tears, the officers worked for the next two hours gathering evidence, taking fingerprints and my statement …

The rest of the day offered no such break. As though it was a terrible dream from which I couldn't wake or a ruthless joke somebody had played on us. There were endless phone calls to family and friends. And to insurance reps. And to pawn shops and stores where some of our stolen items might have been taken ...

And slowly the realization that we'll probably see none of those things again. I've tried telling myself repeatedly it could have been a lot, A LOT worse. And that the stuff they got is just junk, material stuff. But that doesn't stop the reminders or thoughts of every cherished memory each item stored or the thoughtful gifts they had been.

Even more, it’s the sick feeling of knowing that somebody has been in our house without our permission. Violated is the word everyone keeps using. ...And you suddenly become suspicious of everyone. Last night, while doing some errands, I stopped at a Wal-mart and pulled into a parking spot near a, let's say rough-looking, man standing beside a junk car. He asked if I could help him jumpstart the car. I rolled my eyes and tried to offer excuses, but finally gave in and helped him. When we were finished he said, "Thanks man, I’ve been standing out here for like 20 minutes." …I replied, "Well you’re lucky because this hasn’t been my day." I shook his hand, told him to take care and went on my way …

Last night, Kates and I went to bed with half the lights on in our house. I literally slept with my laptop and iPod at my side, and even still, didn’t sleep that well. …I had a dream that Joel woke me up and said, "They got the rest of it!" The dream continued with me running downstairs to find our music collection completely wiped out and nothing but empty shelves in other rooms. Then I screamed absolute bloody murder before waking up … It took me what seemed like several minutes of lying wide-eyed in our bed for me to realize it was just a dream.

That was. This is not.