On Wednesday, December 18, my Bejarano family gathered together for the funeral of my grandpa, Heriberto Wilson Bejarano Paredes, or Papa Hery, as we affectionately called him. After the funeral, we went to one of his favorite buffets in Salt Lake City.
While we were there, two men in a white Cherokee shattered the front passenger side window of my sister's car and stole her purse. They proceeded to make large purchases at WalMart, Smith's, RedBox, and other nearby stores.
When we left the restaurant, we found broken glass strewn across the asphalt. Although my sister was in intense shock, she gathered herself together and began making calls to cancel her credit cards. I called the police and filed a report. A police officer met us at the restaurant, where he was able to access the surveillance camera (which is how we know a little bit about how the crime was committed).
My sister's fiance jumped into the restaurant dumpster, hoping that maybe the thieves took the wallet and ditched the purse. After his search came up empty, he, along with several of our excellent cousins, drove to nearby stores to see if they could find any leads (or useful surveillance footage). Over two hours passed, and they came up empty.
II
The good news is that all of my sister's credit cards were cancelled and that she is not liable for any of the purchases the burglars made. Also, we found a local business to repair her car window the next day, and they charged us a reasonable price.
The bad news is, many of the items in my sister's purse are irreplaceable. Credit cards, iPhone earphones, chapstick, and the purse itself are items that can all be fairly easily replaced-- but there were other items in my sister's purse that, although worth little monetarily, were worth a lot sentimentally.
There was a USB drive that contained many of the essays she had written during her time as an undergraduate economics student. Many of these essays were not saved on her laptop and do not survive in paper form.
Since we had recently come from my grandfather's funeral, my sister had copies of the program in her purse. She specifically sought out English and Spanish copies to keep in her collection. My sister's fiance designed the programs, and her contribution to the funeral preparations was to print the programs.
Before my sister's fiance bought a "real" gold-and-diamond ring, he made my sister a ring out of twine and string. It is a simple ring, probably worth only a few cents if we're talking materials, but to my sister that ring means a lot. I remember receiving a text message photo of the ring when her fiance gave it to her-- she was ecstatic.
There was a joint-journal she kept with her fiance. Earlier that day, while we sat at the funeral service, my sister took time to carefully record her feelings about our Papa Hery. She could try to re-write the memories that were in her journal, but she will never be able to replicate the entries with same emotion that comes when an event is still fresh in one's mind.
And even though the bag itself is replaceable (I found an identical one online), even it has memories attached to it. When my sister came to California for my graduation, we decided to buy matching tote bags at Target. I still remember that trip to the store, and when I see my own bag, I think of my sister's identical one.
III
Now, you might be thinking, why did she have all of those items in her purse? Why did she leave her purse in the car? Those questions are easy to ask after-the-fact. My sister is torturing herself with those very questions. The truth is, we've all done careless things like that before-- and the purpose of this post is not to educate you or anyone else on proper safety precautions, but to mourn the loss of items that, by meaning so much to my sister, have come to mean a lot to me and our immediate family.
The last two days have been really rough for my sister. It would be one thing if the thieves merely took her credit cards, it is another thing to know that two sinister people have items so close to your heart. A journal, two funeral programs, a USB drive, a square knot ring.
We cannot reasonably expect to get any of the contents of my sister's purse back, yet we still hope that maybe something unexpected will happen. That the police will bust the perpetrators for another crime (and find the purse), that the thieves will have a change of heart and return the items, that somehow we'll wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a dream....
As I reflect on this small tragedy, I am impressed by how quickly we mobilized to help my sister. I am amazed at the calm, eloquent way she went about calling her bank and her credit card company to cancel her accounts (even when that included sitting through a slew of automated messages).
I think it is really cool that she has cousins, and a fiance, that were willing to drive from store to store trying to track down information about her lost bag. (If a guy jumps into a dumpster for you, you know he must really like you).
IV
So, a message to my sister: we all care about you and love you very much. You won't stop making great memories. And at the end of the day, while the items you own are important, the people that surround you are the most important. :-)
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| This is what my sister's stolen bag looks like. |
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