Gone

Mondays are the worst. I haven’t been awake at 7am the past two days, much less left the house at that hour. I had to leave my nice warm bed for this frigid darkness. Aimee and I trudge groggily to the car. Then the adrenaline hits. “Aimee, we did park the car here, right?” “Have you or your coworkers used it since yesterday afternoon?” Phones come out. I dial Rockhurst security. Aimee dials her supervisor. “Hi, we parked our car in your parking lot and now it’s gone.” Maybe it’s been towed?? “It’s a 1997 red Jeep Cherokee with ‘Donnelly College’ written on both sides... It was parked on the south end of the lot off 54th St... We are in possession of both keys... No there’s no broken glass on the ground.... Ok, thank you.” I dial Bishop Ward. “Hi, I’m going to be late to work. Our car was stolen.” Rockhurst security arrives in person and takes a statement. We receive instructions to call the police. We walk back to the house, now fully awake. I call KCMO police and file a report with someone who gives me the impression this case won’t be high priority (did I mention our relatively high neighborhood crime rate?). I call our JVC staff person and relay to her the news and report numbers. She asks me to file an accident report. Lesson learned: possessions are fleeting. 

UPDATE: About two weeks later they found the Jeep downtown. It had a broken window, a flat tire, and was missing the steering column. The trunk had a bag of soccer balls in it. Donnelly will be selling it for parts. 

Also, nothing will really rattle you like having a large piece of property taken. You begin to have minimal, but persistent anxiety. You worry about personal items being stolen. Personal safety becomes a larger concern. You start to fear leaving the house because you don’t know what you’ll return to. I’m beginning to understand what people mean when they say living among poverty is stressful.