Our son's gym bag was stolen last weekend while he was playing soccer, and he lost his phone, wallet, keys to car and place and most importantly, his sense of security. It was in the middle of a bunch of his teammates' bags, but he was the unlucky one. He's very disturbed, as I was when my wallet was stolen and my husband was when he was robbed twice in Spain. It's a violation, and the thought that someone has so much information about you that they can come to your house, steal your car, or take over your identity is hard to swallow. He's shaken. It will take a while for him to feel safe again.
I am now the person who has her purse on her lap while she eats out at a cafe, and wears a shoulder strap bag across my chest, and double checks every time I use my credit card that I've returned it to my wallet. I'm older, and that makes me a target. I can't walk to the movie theater four blocks away at night, dare not park to far from the building going out in the eavening. I wouldn't be the person who would talk on her cell phone while walking, even in daytime. I need to be aware of my surroundings. The younger people running with ipods in their ears risk more than they care to know. They seem foolhardy to me.
But after a while you decide you must step out into the world, the world not as we wish it to be, but the world as it is, and take your chances, calculatedly, that you will survive. It's a risky business, being alive. But the benefits outweigh the alternative.
No comments:
Post a Comment