Thank God for small mercies
I was robbed last night. The world is a horrible place today.
I spent the weekend cat-sitting for an old friend, let's call him Ben.
On Sunday afternoon, I nipped back up to my Mum's to collect a few items -- some fruit (they're going away and won't eat it); my nice skirt and jacket for a wedding on thursday; some other summer clothes, including another nice skirt and a different jacket; my sunhat and handheld fan; the picture frame I made with all my engagement cards in; quite a bit of cash; and my 'other' engagement ring -- ok, more than a few items.
The reason I have two engagement rings is: Mike had been planning to propose to me on our 1-year dating anniversary, the Saturday. I had seen this coming a mile off and bought him a ring, planning to go second if he went first. The previous Tuesday, the plan changed and I ended up going first. We were out and Mike didn't have the (silver) ring he'd bought with him. I, however, had come prepared, and had the (gold and diamond) ring I'd inherited from my late beloved grandmother in my bag, that I told Mike he could give back to me if he chose to. He did, and I therefore actually consider that to be my "real" engagement ring, although I wear the silver ring everyday. The gold and diamond ring is too small and needs resizing -- I never quite got around to it after my Nannie died; hence bringing it, and the money, with me.
Ben was back later than planned, and then we chatted for a while, so it was 1:30am when we made it back home with all that stuff -- and someone had bolted the door! "Ok," he says. "You can sleep on my couch." Half asleep already, when we got back, I asked, "Is it ok to leave some stuff in your car?"
"Yeah, ok" he replied.
I think you can see where this is going. In his tired state, he forgot to lock the car.
I grabbed my weekender rucksack from the boot, plus another bag, and the bag with the fruit somehow got caught on the handle and made it inside. My coat had been thrown on top of the bags, and stayed where it fell when I retrieved them. The picture frame with the engagement cards stayed seat-belted in, and I left my two skirts and two jackets hanging on the hook in the backseat.
Just before we left the first time, Ben presented me with a packet of biscuits as a thank you for cat-sitting. Of my main weekender backpack, and the pink one I'd grabbed to put my extra summer clothes in at Mum's, the pink bag was closer to hand so the biscuits went in there. Thank goodness for small mercies. Putting away the biscuits, I saw the ring box in the pink bag. I'd forgotten I'd brought it back with me, but seeing it reminded me of the cash I'd packed in the same bag as well. When I grabbed my weekender, I grabbed that bag as well. I am not having that ring anywhere other than under my direct supervision.
When we went out to the car today, the clothes hanging up were missing. We double-checked the house, but they were gone, and then discovered the CDs were also gone from the glove box. My coat was still in the boot, and the engagement cards picture frame was where I'd left it.
I grieved the loss of those clothes. It wasn't just that they were really nice clothes that looked good on me (a rare thing). The black and white skirt was like that. A good skirt, but just a skirt. The others, though. Man, the others.
The black and pink skirt I wore for our engagement party and our anniversary dinner. The biscuit-coloured jacket I wore to the anniversary dinner and when I went to buy Mike's engagement ring. The fuchsia jacket I wore for my sister's graduation and her leaving party when she went to Australia, the one that inspired the only compliment on my physical appearance that my Dad has given me since I've been an adult. I can never get those moments back again.
The photo on the left shows my sister and I at her graduation. She's in her cap and gown, with straight hair, whilst I am wearing the fuchsia jacket open over a black and white dress, with my long brown hair coming over my shoulders. The picture on the right shows me and my sister at her leaving party. I'm wearing the same jacket fastened over a blue-with-pink-flowers top, with my hair up, and she's wearing a dress in a completely different shade of bright pink, with the Australian flag draped around her shoulders (only the corner of it is visible in the photo), and she has her hair curled.
I discovered today that the physical items attached to sentimental circumstances matter a LOT to me. I've never been particularly sentimental about photos, and now I know why.
Of course there are positives: no one was hurt, Ben still has his car, and it's not damaged. I still have the ring, and the money, and the engagement cards, and Ben is going to buy me some new clothes tomorrow. (That'll be weird.)
But today, the world feels like a horrible place.
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This is the moment when unmowngrass wishes she had a photo of the anniversary dinner.
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