Last night my son called. He lives in California, 3,000 miles away from me. To the world, he’s a grown man. To me he’s still my little boy. Sunday is the day he usually calls me and we chat about life in general. It fills my need to hear his voice and know that everything is right in his world. He didn’t call this week. Sometimes that happens. I wait . . .
His special ring began to play on my phone sitting beside me. I smile as I answer the phone. We talk a few minutes. I tell him that his uncle’s house has sold. He is surprised that it has sold so quickly.
Then the words that changed my evening of a pleasant chat to one of fear and dread came through the phone, “I’ve got something to tell you.” Fear grabs my heart, my stomach lurches as I brace myself for whatever, because the tone was not one of good news. “Allie’s purse was stolen yesterday from her desk.” He goes on to explain everything that was in her purse.
The only key to the truck she was driving, her social security card, all bank cards, keys to the house and his car. Fortunately she had her phone in her pocket. He had to leave work to go pick up the daughter from school, then come to get Allie. Once home, they began the task of calling credit card companies and banks. Someone had to be called to make a key for the truck ($400). A new deadbolt was installed on the front door. There is fear that whoever took the purse will come to their home and steal their car. Unfortunately they do not have a garage.
Allie went to the bank and was told that someone tried to withdraw $5,000 from her account. They do not have that kind of money. Fortunately the teller asked for identification. The person did not have any. The teller asked security questions. The person failed. She was denied access to the account (thank goodness!)
He feels violated. He feels angry that someone has caused their lives to be turned upside down. He is frustrated that they have had to bear expenses that were not in the budget. He is grateful that no one is hurt. He knows that things can be replaced.
No matter how old your child is, you want their world to be perfect. It makes me sick to think of what they have been through these past two days. I wish I could make it all better.