Last week, someone stole our memories. Lulled into a sense of security, the alarm was not set and our home was broken into in broad daylight. Nobody was hurt and considering it was our teenage daughter who was first on the scene, we can only be thankful.
The burglar was after jewelry, and went straight for the master bedroom
where Judi’s valuables were available for convenient shopping on the top of the
dresser. He simply scooped out several
handfuls of loot with little regard for what he grabbed.
The monetary value of the stolen items was not inconsequential. But the real loss was in the sentimental
worth. Ironically the most valuable
jewelry pieces, the family heirlooms, were safely hidden away. It was the pieces Judi wore regularly that
were taken.
Judi has a habit of buying jewelry when on vacation. Practically speaking, those are the only occasions
when she has time to make such purchases.
As a result, she had a great collection of jewelry from our many trips
to Israel, along with a ring bought on an excursion to Chicago, an anniversary piece
purchased by Stan for our 20th, and a unique pewter item bought in
Bath, England while on “holiday” with a friend.
All gone.
The diamond anniversary pieces and pearl earrings from our wedding will be
simple enough to replace. But, the most
heartache comes over the few items that belonged to the unsinkable Betty Taksar
Marie Beiner. The tiny marcasite
earrings and small sapphire/gold ring were all ‘Betty-size”. Every time Judi put them on, she thought
about her. Even if it was just for a
second, memories of the family matriarch became a part of Judi’s day; she loved having those sparkly physical
reminders. Gone.
It was not until the next day that Stan discovered that the gonif had also
taken our inexpensive camera. Why
that? For the burglar, it was just a
whim to take a camera sitting out. For us, he stole five months of memories.
We hadn’t yet downloaded all of the photos.
There were some from our daughter’s high school graduation, her UGA
orientation and her settling in to her first year in college. We had had a great hardly seen/never met relatives
vacation trip this past summer traveling to Baltimore, NYC and Boston. We visited family, found some long lost
cousins, and met one relative in his 80’s for the first time. And we had great pictures…all gone.
We know it is just “stuff.” One of
Stan’s most powerful childhood memories came from a moment when Betty dropped a
saucer in the home of a California cousin who was a Holocaust survivor. It was a solitary keepsake that she had
brought over from Europe- a singular memory of her childhood home. The family was mortified when his cousin
walked over to the cupboard, grabbed a dustpan and began cleaning it up. With not an ounce of emotion, she explained
that it was a thing. Her memories were
still intact. But still….sometimes we
count on those objects to remind us of things we shouldn’t forget but often do.
It feels like a poignant coincidence that we were robbed during the month
of Elul. This is the season when we look back at the past year to recall,
reflect and remember. Visiting the
graves of our loved ones is a common tradition, one that helps trigger
memories. It took us more than 24 hours
to determine everything that had been stolen.
And each time Judi remembered an item, there was a trip or a person
connected to it. Those happy memories
locked away in rings, necklaces, and memory cards are now somewhat tinged with
sadness.
So let us suggest another ritual for Elul:
Go through your things, while you still have them! Touch them, smell
them, gaze at them and joyfully immerse yourself in the memories that otherwise
might be forgotten.
- Stan and Rabbi Judith Beiner
This blog entry is also featured in The Atlanta Jewish Times.
This blog entry is also featured in The Atlanta Jewish Times.
