Karma stole my 40 dollars?

When I was short of eleven years of age, I stole $100 from my grandmother. I took that money and spent it in just about everything a kid my age could think of, of course candy and any other imaginable treat.

Obviously I got caught like any criminal with no brain does. I left quite a trail of naughtiness.

My punishment? I had to work for eight straight Saturdays at her place of business. She used to sell fritters. I was to keep the fire going. True fire this is, for she cooked her fritters under real fire with real wood.

I don't think I ever repaid her my wrongdoing. I did not follow through with my Saturdays.

Fast forward some thirty plus years later. Why would we ever get in a time machine for to end up exactly where we started?

Now I am dating official boyfriend #3 and my older son is 19.

I had this can in my closet where I started putting away some loose change. Trying to resemble those insurance ads that emphasize how you can afford them out of pocket change.

After a while I had close to $40 in that jar... or was it more? I will never know.

One day, I checked that jar and it was empty. But it wasn't deja vu for me yet. I was still blinded by justice.

I told my boyfriend. Of course I suspected him firsthand. I don't ever remember telling my son about the jar. I don't think I told my boyfriend either.

I did not accuse my boyfriend directly, but you know how we women do. I just told him about it.

"It wasn't me", he replied quite calmly, "must've been your son."

-My son?, I responded. I don't like unnecessary arguments, so I didn't respond much further. Silence can work miracles sometimes.

What I did do was write a note that read: "Some kind of love you're showing" and placed it inside the jar. The purpose was to leave it as a message to whoever came back to steal some more.

I told my son about the missing money. His face went blank for a quick second, then he also denied it. He said he did not know anything about the money.

This was more than a year ago. To this day I don't know who took that money... and that is not even the issue.

The issue is Karma. I never paid my dues for the money I stole from my grandmother.

The other day, I had a small argument with my son over the phone. Totally unrelated. The money matter has been flushed as far as I am concerned.

When I hung up with him, my boyfriend spurts out of the blue. "I tell you that he was the one who took that money from your closet..."

That is not even the subject, I tell him.

"I'm just letting you know because before I even steal $40, I'd rather steal $25,000...", well, he used to be a drug landlord, but guess I'll leave that for some other hub.

I get very sad inside. It was then that it hit me as deja vu. Karma. Whoever stole those $40 did it more than a year ago. That ghost from my childhood, that I created, will always be there to haunt me.

Some other time I wrote about the demons that some of us, chosen ones, have in their closets.

Allow me to add this one to my collection.

It was my boyfriend who later found the note. I never told anybody of the exact location of the jar in the closet. He says he was able to find it because I told him it was in the closet and, granted, my closet is not big at all.

It doesn't really matter which of them took the money. I lose anyhow. My boyfriend insists it was my son. Really it's all the same... that's my Karma.

I just wish them both a better one.