In this unusual memoir, the victim of a robbery recalls the personal significance behind the items stolen from her home.
In January 2022, the author received a phone call from her husband that upturned her life—someone had broken into their safe. As the only daughter in her family, and only granddaughter on her father’s side, the author had become the “repository” of her family’s jewelry and prized possessions. Her personal sense of safety shattered, Danielson also wavered between feeling shallow and materialistic for grieving the loss of her possessions, and guilty for being careless with her family’s heirlooms. After dedicating months to scouring pawnshops and consignment stores, reviewing neighborhood camera footage, and reading online posts, the author turned to writing. What began as simple descriptions of the lost items soon morphed into autobiographical vignettes as the author realized that “Stories can survive, but only if we tell them.” Dedicating most of the chapters to specific stolen items, Danielson emphasizes that their true significance lies not in their monetary value but in their connections to some of the most important and treasured memories of her life. A blue topaz ring with a gold band, for instance, that she received for her 18th birthday—its blue gem would later remind her of the color of her bridesmaids’ dresses and her son’s eyes. One chapter recalls a childhood rosary that Danielson associates with her days in Catholic school and her family’s faith; another eulogizes the silver wedding band of her grandmother’s, which represented “a union of two immigrant families.” Many chapters begin with a drawing of a missing item and a brief description. A lawyer by trade, the author writes personable, intimate prose that is punctuated by moments of poignancy (“the stories brought me back,” she writes, adding, “no one can ever steal the stories”). The work concludes with discussion questions for personal reflection or group discussion.
A well-crafted, touching reminder of the power of prized memories.