Yesterday I wrote that nice bubbly post. But as you will recall, I indicated that I knew that the past (or present) could pop in to burst the bubbles at any point. Probably should have knocked on wood.
We got a call yesterday noon from the insurance company about our van, which has been recovered for a couple of weeks. The story is so incredibly long that I'm not going to take time to type it all here. In order to attempt to recover something from the stolen van episode we have been on the phone over and over again trying to come to some resolution. We have gotten the runaround in many ways. But yesterday's call was completely disturbing.
It appears that the case had been sent to investigations because the person who stole it had to have a key. Once the van was recovered and inspected, they realized that it had not been tampered with and that meant that one of our children must have been involved. When I made some calls it became apparent that one of the keys is missing. In addition, the inspection of the outside of the vehicle that we had done was messed up by the dealership that did it and it made it appear that we were claiming prior damages, when we were attempting to be as honest as we possibly could be about the whole situation.
So the conversation was troubling on many levels. First of all, I HATE having my integrity questioned. And the suggestion (possibly even strong enough to be an accusation) that we had orchestrated the whole theft was so far beyond stupid that I was pretty angry. But under all that was this deep reminder of pain.
One of the kids did it to us again. Whether it was taking the van themselves or giving the key to someone else, it was most likely another violation of who we are. And all the junk from the past... all the times we had been betrayed and violated and hurt ... it all came back like waves in a turbulent ocean.
Prior to this call I was planning a follow-up post today to encourage people that if you hang in there long enough, things will get better and you're life can be very good. And I still believe it. The hurt and pain didn't take over my day -- they were a small part of it, and the rest was a great day.
It isn't so much that it happened. Stuff happens. It's just that being reminded of the fact that the pain that someone else caused my children somehow gets poured out on me is so hard to take sometimes.
All that to say this: I talked it all through with a friend and then Leon before I told Bart so I was much calmer and we handled it rationally. The rest of my day was awesome and I woke up feeling good. So it was a blip. But it was there. And I think those blips will always be there.
But it doesn't mean life can't be good.