What a wild and completely unpredicted year it has been.
Almost precisely a year ago, Aaron and I made the final shuffle of “stuff” into our historic Kansas City home. The night before sleeping in our house, I finished cleaning out my small Ranch. Tired, I left a pile of cleaning supplies, blankets and trash cans piled into the back of my Jeep.
My exhausted body crash landed at Aaron’s apartment in downtown KC that night. Uneasy, I woke up constantly. The dogs were restless. I was worried about the Jeep getting towed from the lot I’d parked it in. I looked out the window many, many times to see it sitting the glisten of dim streetlights.
That morning, I got up, quickly got ready and walked out of the complex to head to work. From the gated entry, I could see blankets hanging from my Jeep windows. The trash can was sitting in the middle of the lot next to my car. I panicked, called Aaron, then called the cops.
In total 5 of the car’s 7 windows had been broken out – including the large back hatch, driver’s window and multiple side windows. Someone had climbing into and through the car – sitting on a pillow in the driver’s seat to go through my glovebox.
There was nothing of value in the car. Still, they crushed it aiming to find something. Anything.
Aaron returned hours later after showing a home to a new buyer. He helped me to unload the cleaning supplies and few odds and ends – all the while we talked circles around the fact that none of it was worth this amount of stress. As we swept up the glass – I scooped a small plastic cup full of the jagged shards.
Today, nothing brings us more laughter than the vial of shattered glass in our travel shelf. As if the act of moving in together hadn’t been stressful enough – we faced the most ridiculous of unnerving hurdles that month. Not only was the car vandalized, but as the weather got warmer, we had multiple late-night visitors to our driveway. The constant intrusions made me anxious. We installed a ridiculous amount of security cameras and monitors. Even then, I panicked every time they detected the smallest of triggers.
Still – we laugh. Amidst a growing collection of amazing memories and stories, the vial of glass is humbling. It’s a reminder of what we overcome together. It’s a reminder of teamwork. It’s a reminder that we’ve already faced some shit. And, at the end of the day, it’s another completely insane story.