Life at the old folks home is unsettled. We had a large screen television in our lounge, large enough to entertain a room full of old folks. On Wednesday evening, someone dropped in, and walked out with our giant TV.
Imagine the guts of that thief. (Well, thieves, actually. It was too big for one man to carry.) They dropped in, looked around, saw no one in the lobby, crossed the parlor to the lounge, and carried off the console, the dvd, the tape player, and I suppose, the remote. (What good is a tv without a remote?)
To say that our senior world is shaken is an understatement. We are geriatrically spooked out of our white-haired old skulls. The old ladies, and even the old men, are locking their doors at night. Who, we ask, would steal a TV from his grandmother? Who was cruel enough to sever our life-line to the outside world, our TV?
By checking the computer connected to the call system, the police ascertained that the thieves entered at 9:31 p.m. We don't know how long it took to carry out the loot, they left the door open, so their exit was not recorded. At 9:30 everyone was in his room, and no one noticed two, or more, burglars, struggling to carry out a console television. That's tough to do when you are laughing hysterically at your own chutspa.
These cat burglars didn't even have to stay out late at night. By 11:30 they were home watching David Letterman on our TV.
This theft made me reflect, have I ever had anything stolen from me? Each of my daughters has had a car stolen. One had the same car stolen twice. It was stolen, recovered, and stolen again.
I have had burglars carry off small items, such as a flute, and once before, a television. But what I grieve losing was a family heirloom, a hand written lefter from Susan B. Anthony to my great-aunt May.
Great Aunt May was one of the first female physicians in Ohio, and as a pioneer in the women's rights movement, was a supporter of Susan B. Anthony. The letter in question was a note in Susan B. Anthony's hand regarding a contribution that had gone astray in the mail. Anthony was asking Aunt May to check with her postmaster to see if the Money Order had been cashed. The sum? Five dollars. In those days, five dollars was worth enough to warrant Anthony's taking time to hand write a note asking for a follow up.
The letter had been saved by my great grandmother, then my grandmother, and then by me.... and I, careless custodian, had it stolen. It was in a book, a book of foreign coins, in fact, that I was also caregiver of, a memiento of my mother-in-law's trip around the world. The thief took the book of coins, probably not realising that the real treasure was the letter inside.
Someday, on Ebay, you may see a book of foreign coins advertised. If you do, grab it. The real treasure is concealed inside.