Final Chapter

So, back to the story. We got home from the temple, and as I followed Jimmy into our home we realized we had been robbed. Someone had kicked our door in (busted through the door frame) and ransacked our home.

Was it a sign that we had not felt peace in the temple? Was it karma? Was it a “Job” (from the Bible) moment where we were being tested to our limits? Those were my thoughts as I sat on the grass crying.

The stress of these dental school decisions and periods of just waiting have been hard on my body—especially for those of you who know I get anxiety attacks. This experience was awful. (And I may or may not have called my dad and told him that I wish I could just die so that I could be a missionary in the spirit world for hundreds of years.) HA!

Luckily I have a husband that steps it up in emergency situations. He called our security company, the police, and maintenance to fix our door. He gave me Roxy who was barking like crazy in her crate. And he called our friend over to give me a blessing. And then we just waited for the police to arrive so they could take fingerprints, pictures and collect evidence.

Sigh. It was one of those awful “blah” moments where you just sit there and go “man—let’s move to Costa Rice—this just stinks (I was going to write sucks but my mom would have yelled at me”).

Burglar man, if you are reading this here is a letter for you:

Dear Burglar,
Thank you for not hurting my doggie Roxy. Thank you for not taking my wedding album, our journals, or our mission pictures. Thank you for not desecrating our property however, you tracked mud all over my apartment and left a nasty hair where our wii use to be. How come you only took our wii, 1 game, and 2 controllers and left the rest of our wii system? That was weird. And that curly, coarse, black hair was from your head right?

You took my laptop that had all of my husband’s school work on it. Now he has to spend hours making it up. Also, you could steal our identity with the information that is on the computer but please just pawn it to a shop so they’ll erase the information. It’s too stressful having your identity stolen (plus I don’t think you were smart enough).

That cash that you stole was the money we earn from doing side jobs. I was kinda ticked you took that because we had to sweat to earn that money. You probably have never had a job so you don’t know what it’s like, but shame on you.

I wish you wouldn’t have taken my husband’s new backpack because my mom spent a lot of money on it. However, I am very grateful you dumped out the notebooks and books. We’ll call it even.

Lastly, I really didn’t like how you went through all our drawers and touched our underwear. I think of you as a dirty thing, and now a dirty thing touched my stuff... How do I wash you out of my apartment? Also, didn’t your mom teach you to turn the lights off when you leave? Why did you turn all the lights on in our house?

I felt violated that you entered our home, especially between 4:30-9pm. Were you watching us? Did you know our schedule? We had lights on and our dog was barking. Do we know you? You know that there is a place reserved for those who do bad things to people while they are in the temple, right? I think you are going to the same place where that man will be who robbed us on my mission.

Also, you know that someone saw you right? Unfortunately it was a single, scared girl so you got away. I hope karma gets you run over by a bus (oops—should I be nicer?). Last question? Do you know Antione Dodson?

Please don’t come back.

Signed,


Probably one of your many victims