Safe

The anger of life never fails to humble me.

I spent a lovely day at Watermark on Thursday. Sally came to have lunch with me and I spent the afternoon reading and listening to my iPod. The day was warm and clear and the car repairs I was waiting on were hundreds of dollars less expensive than I thought they would be.

At 4 in the afternoon I was walking the mile back to the auto shop, through a fairly affluent neighborhood, feeling good about the day I'd had, about the exercise, about life in general. Then a man - a teenager, really - grabbed my purse. He was wearing a striped hooded sweater, I was thinking he must be really hot with that on. He said he would shoot me, demanded my bag. I hit him, and kept a firm grip on my purse. He said, "I'll shoot you! I'll shoot you!" So I hit him again. The flap opened on my bag and he grabbed my wallet and ran off.

It was all so absurd. I had no words for him at all, said nothing, screamed nothing. I just couldn't understand what this child wanted with me, why he would ruin such a perfect day with such a ridiculous crime. He looked like a normal, clean cut kid. I was disappointed in him for resorting to stereotype.

It could have been worse. I was bruised where the strap of the bag was looped around my arm, I lost about $80 in cash and my license and school ID, half a book of checks. I lost Jeff's wedding ring. This time it will not be found. But I was okay, and I didn't lose my iPod, my school books, my knitting...

I called the police and the 911-operator stayed on the phone with me until the officers got there. (Can I just say I am TIRED of talking to 911-operators while I wait for the police to arrive?) I called The Fabulous Michelle to go get Bean and a new book of checks so I could pick up my car. I drove to the bank and closed my account. I drove home and locked my doors. I slept with the lights on.

Today on campus I cringed every time I saw a black kid in a hoodie. That makes me angry. So very angry. More angry than the loss of the money, the ring. The fear that I have gained, the sudden gut-assumptions I will have very little control over... this is what he has done to me. This will be very hard for me to forgive.

But it's not just me and it was so much worse for my friend K. There was a shooting at a theater in Georgia, her son was supposed to have been there but decided to stay home. They know the kids who were killed and wounded. My heart just breaks for her and her family. You do what you can as a mother to keep your kids safe - and she is doing what she can to help her kids deal with the aftermath of this horrible violence.

How do we, any of us, ever feel safe? What magic words can we whisper at night to enchant our days? I feel hollowed by these events, just as I was beginning to feel more solid I am blown back, exposed.

It is not enough that we are good people, good parents, good citizens in the world. It is not enough that we keep our wits about us, that we maintain our homes, our families, our sense of humor when life becomes so difficult.
Constant vigilance is exhausting.
I am exhausted.
K is exhausted. And overwhelmed by the happenings in this world.

I don't think K and her family are at the "anger" phase of grief yet. I am angry for them. I am angry for all of us.

We should be allowed to not just feel, but BE safe.

Hang in there, K. You're doing a great job and I'm sending lots of love your way.