Just as we were getting comfortable at our own home, sadly, we have to leave our home.
After playing badminton with my brother and sister-in-law, my husband and I went to Sta. Ana to attend their fiesta. It was May 12, 2004. When seated to have our dinner, my husband's phone rang. It was her mom giving us the bad news. Our home was robbed. The caretaker of my husband's apartment called his uncle who called his mom who called us to inform us of what happened.
We did not eat our dinner anymore and went home right away.
Omar's relatives are there waiting for us to comfort us. I was shaking when I saw our bedroom. More than what was lost, it was the thought that a stranger intruded our home, rummaging our personal belongings with his hands!
Jewelries, watches, and cash were stolen. Our neighbor next to us heard our gate open late in the afternoon, thinking that it was me since I usually arrive at around that time (imagine if I was already home and somebody will sneak into our home, so creepy). Early in the evening, they saw our lights from the bedroom switched on (so the burglar stayed from sun up to sun down). We even saw drippings of juice at our kitchen floor (the burglar even managed to get juice from our ref to cool him down, he must be so stressed). They did not bother to get some of our appliances anymore.
That same night, we did not sleep in our home anymore. We stayed at my brother's house. The following day, we packed our things and went home to my parent's house again to stay.
It's so sad to leave the place, not because I came to love it already, because that's where Omar and I started to have our life together. We will have to start all over again - this time securely.