So I spent the evening hiding in my monster sofa, eating Nutella, untill Mr Husband came home. I was a lot more vulnerable and wimpy after yesterdays experience than I would initially admit – or that I would have thought I would be. The first hour I just thought ‘Nothing happened. You did well, you listened to your gut and nothing happened.’ I was all fired up and action, adrenaline running. Then I made tea and curled up.
One memory kept coming back to me over and over. I could not stop thinking of my grandmother, who was robbed in a similar way, though much worse. This was back home in Denmark, in Copenhagen, it was Easter 1994. She lived in an apartment block, where you could not see her front door from the street, because of bushes and trees. That day someone was hiding between the trees and jumped at her, when she opened the door. He put a knife to her throat and forced her up the stairs to her apartment.
It is a terrible story. It shook all of us at the time. The robber first tied her in her living room, while he searched the house, then tied her in the bedroom and put a piece of furniture in front of the door, to stop her getting out. He then cut the phone cord before leaving. It was a terrible ordeal. He took all her jewelry; he even took her wedding ring off her finger. It was very, very bad.
So while drinking my tea, my imagination ran wild. I kept thinking what could have happened and what did happen to grandma. And I kept thinking why would someone do this? It is so up and personal. So very different from ‘just’ breaking into a house with no people in it. Why the personal attack? But people get robbed every day and, in most cases, the robbers get away with it. It is hard to catch them. They never caught grandma’s robber.
I’m sorry for writing all this blabber. I am hoping I will be less wimpy if I write about it. I’m thinking ‘get it out there, leave it out there.’ It worked with my Angry Bird post from yesterday, though that was short-lived. I’m beginning to discover how powerful a tool this writing business is. On a personal level. So now I’ve wallowed so much in this story that I don’t want to be wimpy anymore! End of that. Thank you for listening.
I mean that. Thank you.