A Mommy Story

It was almost exactly four years ago that our house was robbed. A man living across the street from us watched our house carefully, finding the one day of the week when no one was home for several hours and then broke our back window and helped himself to everything of value.

The new laptop I had purchased just three days prior – intended for my first BlogHer trip – was gone, along with Aaron’s laptop, our game systems and games, the video camera, and several other small electronics. The videos of Cordy’s first steps and silly moments were on the tapes he took with the camera. My engagement ring – set out to be re-sized – was stolen as well.

None of those items were ever recovered, even though we provided the serial numbers for everything. But thanks to my eye for tiny details, I spied a small drop of blood on the curtain, and it was through that speck of DNA evidence that the thief was caught several months later.

However, even being a repeat offender doesn’t guarantee more than a slap on the wrist, and the thief was released on probation, with a restraining order preventing him from coming near us or our house for 5 years. The final part of his sentence was a requirement that he pay us for our insurance deductible.

We never expected to see the money. Truthfully, I didn’t even care about the money. My sense of security had been shattered and I didn’t even feel safe in my own home. We always take precautions of locking doors and windows, but it wasn’t until then that security systems or other additional precautions to protect our home had even crossed my mind. Replacing the items we lost was costly, but the greater cost to me was in trying to replace any comfort I felt while at home.

As the years have passed, the sharp emotions of that day have dulled. Of course, we keep the house locked up and protected more than ever now, but I’m no longer waking up in a panic in the middle of the night, double-checking locks and systems I know are secure. Most of the items that were stolen were replaced.

But this past week, a letter arrived in the mail from the courts addressed to Aaron. I was completely puzzled, wondering if we had done something wrong, like missed a parking ticket or something like that. Instead, I opened the envelope and found a check for the same amount as our insurance deductible, with a receipt stating it was a restitution payment from the thief!

I never expected to see that money. Holding that check gave me just a little more faith in karma and in the system. It added one tiny bit of closure to an otherwise painful memory, and it just happened to show up during a time when we really need it, too. I only hope that the thief has used this past four years to turn his life around, finding a productive manner of contributing to society instead of shattering windows to take treasured belongings – and peace of mind – from others. Or at the very least, that he no longer lives anywhere near us and never comes into our neighborhood again.