Birthdays and broken things

Friday was Kate’s Birthday, she turned 24. Keith tried to tell me, he sat me down in his office and gave me one piece of advice above all else but I didn’t listen. He told me that the morning was the most important time on birthdays. Start the day with something special and she will know that she is special to you. I had flowers waiting for Kate at work, a funny card and good book for when she got home, and a 5 hour spa day including a pre-natal massage to give her over dinner at the Greek restaurant. But I didn’t do anything special in the morning, apart from sing happy birthday to her when the alarm went off. She got up and I laid there for a little longer, sleepy from the late night at the Man Shower. When she left for work Friday morning she was in tears. She didn’t feel special because I didn’t listen to Keith.

The rest of the day went really well and soon Kate was feeling over whelmed with just how special she was to me. We had a great dinner and Saturday morning was a fun time of really enjoying each others company over the morning paper and rearranged drawers. We made plans to meet Kate’s Parents for a birthday lunch and were teasing each other into the garage where the all the fun came to a sudden and abrupt end. There in front of us was our Honda Civic with a smashed passenger window and most of the front dash destroyed and missing. The car ransacked including the glove box where my mom’s iPod, inscribed on the back with “To Softshare’s Lady of Song” used to be. This is the second stereo to be stolen, third time our car was broken into, and fourth crime we have experienced since moving to Fountain Square.

We called the police but they didn’t come, took a report over the phone. We planned ways to booby trap the car so that we could catch a thief. We raged against humanity and cursed the neighborhood. We called the insurance company and went to lunch. Life goes on, stuff gets replaced and we fight to make sense of the broken world we inhabit. Kate and I pray for each other on the drive up to her parents and remind ourselves just how blessed we are. House, two cars, good job, great friends, family that supports us, baby on the way. It is just stuff, broken tainted stuff. The garage needs to be fixed, the neighborhood needs to be fixed, the world needs to be fixed. I start with the garage and head to Home Depot for the parts and wonder where the store is that has the parts to fix the neighborhood. Hopefully they are having a sale and we can stock up.