Monday, after my visit to the Martime Museum with my grandchildren, I found a pocket of my coat open.
"I was robbed!"
A horrible feeling. Violation of "me". A sense of vulnerability.
What I was stolen?
My keys! Where are the keys to my apartment, my car, all together? Nowhere.
The problem was not how I'll enter to my place, I had spare keys in my family, but who will enter in my home?
Who will break into, take whatever he feels like, I have to be afraid of who?
I was scared.
That night, I trembled before opening, full of apprehension that I find the other side of the door.
No one has entered in my absence.
And tomorrow? And after tomorrow? What to do?
"Call the Museum may be the keys have fallen there", as someone suggested to me? I found the number, waited, waited, explained, once and then again. Unfortunately not, it was not there, they did not find any keys that day.
After a full day when I dared not stir from home "that will come in my absence?" they called me "your keys are not here, we did not find any keys."
I put my head under the sand. "Tomorrow, I'll decide what to do."
Redo my keys? Announcing the loss, the theft? Even my car keys where there. Why did I put all my keys in the same place?
Who and when was able to seel me? Approach me? Why? Was it my home adress there too, or just the keys? My card that I give to others call me, contact me? In general, this is the email address, address of my pictures from my blog only, not my full adress. But if somey ...What else was with my keys in the same pocket, found open and empty?
Yesterday morning at five, I got up, determined.
Get out your head from the sand and start doing! And, also try, one last time, to feel al hope is gone, to be over it, renounce hoping having the key "somewhere."
I took out all of my many pockets, then I started to feel my cloak bit by bit.
In the sleeve, hidden and fallen somewhere profound, I found my keys.
I have them. Nobody has touched them. I was not reassured completely. All the scenarios imagined, I still can not quite get out of my head, they seem still almost as real.
So many things happen in our heads!
"You have learned a lesson" said my little son. The next time you will look better. The next time ....
A lesson? What lesson? Do not immediately think the worst?
What was all this good for, I asked myself, as is my habit.
At least, to have a story to tell. Perhaps, next time be slower to panic. Not immediately imagine the worst.