At 5:54 am I awoke to the sound of the front door slamming. Abe leaves for work at 5:30 these days, and so I was terrified that someone was in the house. I crept to the stairs and heard light switches going on and off in the house. Convinced there was someone inside, I called 911.
Twenty minutes later, a team of six policemen swarmed the house, only to discover…nothing. I felt so dumb. But I honestly did hear the door slam, and I heard another door slam right before the police arrived. Since Abe and I are missing two full sets of keys, we had all the locks changed today just to be safe. Abe has promised to deadbolt the door behind him when he leaves for work.
To be honest, I still haven’t quite recovered from the adrenaline rush that accompanied lying in bed whispering on the phone with 911 for twenty minutes. It was terrible. I haven’t felt safe since. Also, I’m stressed out that I call 911 so much. This was my fourth call in two and a half years. If I operated 911, I would stop responding to my number’s calls. “Oh, it’s just the hystrionic lady in the Avenues who always thinks she’s under attack. Let’s respond to someone who actually NEEDS help…”
The only times I’ve forgotten the scare today were 1) visiting teaching Marilyn this morning and 2) having dinner with my mission friend, Jen! She’s from France, but her husband is American and they’ve been living in D.C. for the past five years. Jen was a director at Miriam’s kitchen during that time, and the experiences she shared uplifted us so much. We were so inspired by Jen and Chris’s passion for community and homeless-outreach.
Now that they’ve moved to Salt Lake, I’m looking forward to spending more time with Jen. She was also mission companions in Las Vegas with one of Abe’s high school friends, and so for our next get together we’re going to invite the Maudsleys over for dinner and let Katie and Jen reconnect. It’s been almost ten years since our missions!
Here’s a photo Abe took at the end of dinner. Chris was also taking pictures, and Jen and I are each looking at our hubby’s phone.
