Suck it, robbers.

Remember this post where I went on & on about driving less & loving my bike so much? Yeah? Well, do you remember my post where I talked about our house being robbed? Are you connecting the dots yet? The jerks stole our bikes. The ironic part- my FAVORITE PART- of that story is how we had kept our bikes inside our house so they wouldn't get stolen. And then, our house was broken into and they stole the bikes from inside the house. I laugh every single time I tell that story. It never gets old. 

I spent about 5 minutes being really bummed out, but then I remembered the bike my grandma had given me a couple years ago. It was an old, rusty, 10 speed, with non-working brakes and only 5 speeds, a seat covered in duct-tape and generally in disrepair. That old, ugly bike is a dream come true. I slapped on a new seat, had the husband fix the brakes & convert it into a 5 speed, invested in a heavy-duty lock, added a handlebar bag and some fancy lights and BAM.

Behold my hoopty it all it's cobbled-together glory!

You better believe I am racking up the miles and bombing hills on this bad bitch all over town.

You cannot steal my joy, so SUCK IT, ROBBERS!

Life is hard, but I keep on living it

Just over 5 weeks ago, my grandma passed away from cancer. When my mom said there wasn't much time left, I had quit my job, feeling an urgency to be with grandma in her last days. I sat by her side for 11 days and watched her change from a somewhat thinner version of the woman I knew to an almost comatose adult sized infant, until eventually she was gone completely.
I watched my mother and my aunts & uncle do the things that should never have been asked of them, yet they did so without question. My family has been emotionally and physically drained.

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Yesterday I took my 4 children to visit family and didn't return until almost 10pm. I unlocked the door and the kids rushed in ahead of me, only to discover our home had been invaded. Belongings tossed, drawers emptied. Empty spaces where our things once sat. Stuff is just stuff, but the violation that is felt when a stranger has been inside your home and come into contact with your most intimate possessions is so difficult to bear. 

Among the losses, I count a little white jewelry box labeled with my name, which was written in my grandma's boxy all-caps handwriting approximately 1 month before her passing. 

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I don't know what I am supposed to do when I am simultaneously uncomfortable in my own home, and afraid to leave it..............

I closed the window that was used to effectively shatter my family's sense of security, and I may never open it again.