Background: My husband has a really cool job of building specialty concrete structures like zoo and aquarium exhibits, roller coaster rides, etc. He built Disney’s “Star Wars/Galaxies Edge” theme park for instance. We move all over the US constantly for his work. I’m okay with that. We were just asked to relocate to New Mexico for an exhibit build here. The night we arrived, our trailer was stolen. We lost everything. It’s been a nerve wracking few days…I’m still sticking with my crochet business, albeit this is a serious setback.
This is from my blog post this morning:
Views from the Road and Fellow Wand Weavers…
Albuquerque, New Mexico
A PERSONAL NOTE TO EVERYONE:
Thank You for your notes and messages.
I haven’t responded yet, because I honestly don’t know what to say.
Truth be told?
I’m still numb from the shock of the trailer being stolen.
…and then I have these moments where the shock fades
and I’m physically hit hard,
like an unexpected belly punch from life.
I feel like I’m gasping for air
and there is none
because I simply can’t breathe.
EVERYTHING.
We didn’t have much to start with,
as we had “minimalized” our existence to just what we needed.
But what little we had was exactly that: NEEDED.
Matt’s tools, safety belts, harnesses, boots, gloves, work gear…
all my crochet for this little side business…
and what we needed to start and end each day.
Not much,
but what we NEEDED to exist and care for ourselves.
I wake and the day feels heavy before I even get my eyes open.
All I can do is move forward…
“stuff is stuff” and all that.
This situation has shaken my trust in the world too.
I don’t want to “go see” the Carlsbad Caverns now because I’m afraid the Jeep will be stolen. I don’t want to go the Thrift store to get clothes because I see that there are over two dozen thrift stores in this section of Albuquerque alone, and that reminds me that stuff is stolen here constantly. I’m afraid of being mugged in the parking lot. I’m afraid of coming out of the store and not having the car sitting there. I won’t take Dexter out to pee at night without one of the Boyz with me because I am being warned repeatedly about being raped. It’s a real thing here, and constant. Of course, then I worry about something happening to the Boyz if they were “protecting” me. We see someone in the dark corner of the parking lot? We turn around to avoid being too close to anyone unknown.
Everyone keeps reminding me to be careful, it’s not safe.
EVERYONE has been the victim of a crime here.
I met someone in the lobby yesterday who had her car stolen, and it was “new”…with payments and all that. She lost her job because she couldn’t get to work, and that led to…yeah.
The clerk at the hotel desk told me this morning that his car was broken into as well. Right here, same parking lot. I hadn’t even had my coffee yet and he’s warning to not go out at night alone. Be careful during the day too, but never at night. It’s not safe.
Everyone I meet has been the victim of some sort of major theft, often leaving them in a serious situation.
A lady at Walmart told me her family went to a local event (with security in the parking lot), and all four tires were taken.
I mean: how do you recover quickly from something like that?
The worst part is that I keep hearing how lucky we were that there was no violence involved.
They “just took the trailer”.
Yea us.
I’m shaking.
Frankly,
I’m still doing that gasping thing that you do when you’re hit unexpectedly in the gut. Making that wretched sound one does when they are straining for air.
And that’s exactly what it feels like.
We have to get ID’s/Drivers Licenses here.
Dante’s ID was stolen, and my drivers license had to expire in Utah.
Utah wouldn’t accept my application for a Driver’s License renewal unless I had a lease/rental agreement.
Now, I hear that it’s the same thing here in NM.
Sooooo,
I have to contact a homeless shelter and sign up to meet with a Social Worker and declare that we are homeless.
It doesn’t matter that my hubs company provides housing as part of his employment contract. The government will not recognize us without a lease or rental agreement and a utility bill in our name(s).
The kicker?
No ID? The Boyz can’t get work.
No rental/lease agreement? No utility bill in their names? No ID.
Everything is connected.
I’ve been on the phone constantly since this nightmare began.
…non stop phone calls involving being put on hold, telling “the story” over and over again, being transferred to the “Fraud Department”, and then answering the incredible amount of questions in order to “prove my identity”.
The Bank required us both to be present. For several HOURS after Matt got home from a full day of work…verifying who we are, and securing all our affairs. Fortunately, we could do it “over the phone”. Still: 8 hours total to just handle our bank account.
The worst question?
“What was your address in such-in-such year?”
Dude…we’ve moved 23 times in 10 years. Let me look it up…
oh yeah (insert gut punch here)…
THAT information is in my little red “everything” book
and THAT WAS STOLEN!!
The extended warranty for repairs on the Jeep? Stolen.
ALL my account names, numbers and passwords for the Wand Weaver? Stolen.
My tax ID information with the IRS? Stolen.
ALL my crochet? Stolen.
I just finished a design that I had not yet photographed. I had tested and rewritten the pattern so many times, it was now PERFECT.
Stolen.
I can try to recreate it from memory.
My hooks are gone.
My yarn is gone.
I don’t have anything.
Qtips? Stolen.
Tylenol? Stolen.
Cheese Grater? Stolen.
Cutting board? Stolen.
Knife? Stolen.
I didn’t have much, but what I had, I needed.
I have the yoga pants and black fuzzy muck boots I was wearing on the road trip here.
Everything was stolen.
Everything.
I’m trying to find the positive.
Here’s all I can come up with this morning:
I was wearing this coat on the road trip…
…and then I’m reminded that all of Dexter’s Dawg coats
…the ones he wears,
and the ones for sale
were in the trailer.
So that’s another positive.
I still have Dexter Dawg.
Thanks for listening…
It did get better, but it wasn’t easy.
