Violation

Yesterday, Mark and the freshman rowing team headed to Indianapolis for a regatta.  While there, some horrible person(s) broke into the Michigan van and stole Mark's backpack and the backpack of a fellow rower.  Mark's backpack held his wallet, keys, Michigan ID and phone.

To put this in perspective, think about Mark when he arrived back in Ann Arbor:

• his car was locked, and he had no keys, so he had no way to drive home.
• he could have called a taxi, but he had no money.  No cash, and no credit card.
• he could have called someone, but he had no phone.

Thankfully, somebody gave him a ride home, and he called us from there.

This morning, this SUNDAY morning, John got up early enough to start calling locksmiths.  He needed to find someone who could break into Mark's car, because Mark's car held his french horn which he needed for two performances today.

The car was then towed to the Honda dealer, because we have only one key for that car (mind you, I have been saying for YEARS that we needed an extra key).  Who knows how long it will take them to make a new key?

Last night when I heard the news, I felt like I needed to head to Ann Arbor to help out Mark.  Thinking about his schedule, I knew that he would be completely overwhelmed, trying to take care of this by himself.  I mean seriously.  He goes to class for 4-6 hours a day, he practices for two hours a day, he has rehearsals, and two hours of rowing practice.  He's earning DUAL DEGREES.  Where in the world was he going to find the resources to take care of everything?  He has no i.d., no money, no form of communication and no form of transportation.

So, this morning when I woke up for church and was saying my prayer, I had an overwhelming feeling that I needed to head to Ann Arbor immediately.  Skipping church is not an easy task for me--I have five callings--and I needed to make phone calls.  I missed a choir number (as the accompanist), I found an organist for sacrament meeting, John was teaching my youth Sunday School class, I didn't find a substitute for Primary, and I skipped a stake youth meeting after church (it was our ward conference) along with not visiting the Young Women during church.  However, I knew I needed to go.  I helped the girls get ready, I packed my bag and I was off.

When John had spoken to Mark earlier in the morning on the house phone, I had told him to meet me in front of Hill Auditorium at 3:00.  He had a concert at 4:00.  I brought him food (because he couldn't buy any, or get any from his meal plan on campus since he had no i.d.).  I looked for him around the side of the building and didn't see him.  As I turned the corner, there he was, sitting on a wall, under a tree, in the freezing cold weather looking completely dejected.

As I walked up to him, he threw his arms around me and just starting crying.  We stood there for a couple of minutes while he just sobbed.

How thankful I felt for listening to my feelings that morning.

He said the hardest part had been not being able to communicate with me, or talk to me.  He was feeling so bad about losing everything.  Despite the fact that his performance started in 20 minutes, he needed to just vent, and I was happy to comfort and listen.  I asked him if anything else was making him feel bad, and he said "no", just the fact that his life was basically stolen.  

And it was at that point that I was happy to say, "Mark, I'm here to take care of all of that."  Was there anything else?  Nope.  And with that, his whole countenance changed.  He didn't have to worry about having no money.  He didn't have to worry about having no phone because I had just left the AT&T store where I got his phone number transferred to my iPhone, and the phone was now his--sparklier and nicer than the one he had, complete with a new OtterBox.  John (and Hugh and Chris) had thankfully taken care of getting the Honda to the dealer that morning, and Mark was given Kathy's car for the time being.  Too, I brought organization and free time to buy a new backpack and wallet, along with a temporary credit card and cash.

After the concert, Mark told me how bad he felt about losing his stuff.  It wasn't the fact that he lost "things" but that he lost meaning.  Maybe that should be Meaning.

His girlfriend, Cathryn, sends him letters that he cherishes.  He had a stack of unopened letters from her in his backpack, now gone.  Photos on his phone of her and the family.  Texts between him and Cathryn.  His HOBY lanyard.  His backpack from his grandparents that he got as a graduation gift and that he was planning on taking on his mission.  

Meaningful things.  Things that can't be recovered.

So, while I'm here, I'm helping him with the things that we CAN recover.  Phone.  Michigan identification.  Money.  I'm thankful again that I could come.  I'm thankful that I have a husband who works so hard so that I don't have to, and I can drop everything and come help my boy.  I'm thankful for the timing of this--John and I are leaving the country on Tuesday, so I'm thankful if it had to happen, it happened on a day when I was here.  I'm thankful that I can save Mark some stress.

With that, I mirror the sentiment that John sent in a text message to the person who stole his phone:  "you are going to hell for stealing my son's stuff".  Robbery is such a selfish act.  While the thief could sell Mark's stuff and maybe make $50 off of it, that selfish act will cost us close to $1,000.  Like I said before, there are things too that can't be recovered.  

This really stinks.