I saw a movie years ago where a guy lost his wife and son in a car accident. The accident wasn't his fault but he was having a hard time moving forward despite that. More than a year after the fact his character was living in an apartment with no furniture or personal possessions of any kind, despite having settlement money from the accident. When he was confronted by a well-meaning friend who wondered why he was living in such a rudimentary way... He said something to the effect of, "Have you ever heard the saying, 'Starting from scratch?' Well, this is it. This is scratch."
I had something very valuable stolen from me this morning. Several very valuable things, but one thing in particular... my laptop. The contents of which were not completely backed up. One specific thing this man got--which he will likely never realize or appreciate--is the only copy of my next book. 200+ pages of a very personal endeavor. There were also pictures, code (I am a software developer) and other writing that is now utterly lost and completely irreplaceable.
You may wonder why I am reminded of the man in that movie at the loss of such an obviously material thing. But maybe you can understand that it's not the loss of the material thing that is devastating to me. It's the intangibles that were collected in that case of circuitry. We have had a lot to deal with lately--and have tried to take it with good grace--but it was those intangibles that finally had me pounding on my steering wheel this morning, crying hysterically and sobbing something to the effect of, "Come on!" to heaven or whoever might be listening.
I now have a new laptop. It's blank. Scratch. And that's pretty hurtful. It is in mint condition, faster than my old laptop and even looks sharper... but it is without those intangibles that made the original laptop so valuable. It might be hard for some to understand, but I am still reeling. Except I don't have time to reel. There is work to redo and get done, there are new pictures to take and new paragraphs to write.
I know sometimes it probably sounds as if I think I have all the answers, as if I am walking through this world with a barrel of sunshine and nothing but logic on my side. I'm not. I was screaming and crying in my car today, beating the steering wheel with tears running down my face. So trust when I say that I don't. But that I am trying, which I think is all any of us can do.
I would give quite a bit for the chance to go back to the moment I was walking into daycare oblivious to the man in that white car and his plan for those next moments. But that's not an option. Moving forward is the only option, even when it means starting from scratch.
We aren't defined by what happens to us, but by how we react to those things. How will we react to the things that come at us in the days and weeks ahead? Will we become victims of our circumstance or will we learn to rise above?
Me? I am trying to rise. But I will be the first to admit--and perhaps should admit more often--that it's not always easy. Or graceful. I believe, though, that it's the only way to prevent those who inflict harm on us from winning.


