Ain't it a shame the world's never gonna be the same…posted by Bill Arnett @ 10:37 PM Permalink …I think from my many postings that I have at least tried to lead a good, honest, life, and have tried my best to show I've tried to live a good and decent life, caring for others more then myself, despite the disabilities brought upon me by Agent Orange cancers, trying to remain in good spirits, even as my mind slowly slips away into insanity and the world slowly recedes from view, memories held so strong for so long the it brings about physical pain to realize I'm am losing ever larger blocks of my mind that I will never be able to recover.
One of those memories was the collecting of over 500 of the most beautiful knives in the world, 4,000 layer damascus steel katanas. 37 to 2000 thousand layer Damascus knives, and other specialty knives costing thousands of dollars from custom knife smith's made with some of the finest steels in the world, in some of the most beautiful patterns, and I delighted in playing "knife show" if you innocently commented on some of the pieces I kept displayed. A full "show" could take as long as four or five hours depending on your interest level.
As I have recently started losing more and more of my mind and ability to think and speak cogently, I decided I would once again try my hand at knife collecting. After some minor success and accumulating about a hundred twenty or more knives I decided this would be a maintenance day (Damascus, 1045, 1060, and 1090 tool steels all require care to prevent rusting, those which take edges so sharp the hair jumps off your arm test patch and commits suicide rather than face one of my cutting edges (Remember, I'm from Arkansas where at age seven you were issued your Buck or Schrade cattleman's pattern three blade knife [A clip point, spey, and pen blades], honing oil, and a black Arkansas stone of the kind used to sharpen surgical and dental instruments because the 1000-1200 grit stone polishes while sharpening.
I was having a ball, again, recalling happier times, and enjoying spending a not inconsiderable sum to again begin collecting the knives that seem to carry a small part of the soul of its creator if you know how to feel for it.
So, deciding today was maintenance day, I dug through every box of several hundred knives I have accumulated and found, much to my dismay, that someone within a very, very, small group of family and friends with whom I surround myself, being a total recluse, had taken the liberty of relieving my of a couple of thousand dollars worth of Ros Arms Russian Cutlery knives, including several large bowie, hunting and fighting style knifes, and two specialty knives with blades engraved by hand depicting hunting scenes that were gilded with 24ct. pure gold.
There were fewer than 10 people that even knew I had commenced collecting fine knives again, 2,000 to 4,000 layer Damascus katanas, several Gli Hibben pieces (including one on custom order for Jesse right now) and another thousand dollars or so of knives just since last Friday.
So it leaves me in the ugly position of knowing the only people who enter my home at all (I'm a VERY private person), and further knowing that beside Mila, my Warrior Woman of 35 years, and my son, Jesse, with whom I would without question trust with my life, I am stuck in the very ugly position of knowing it had to be less that a half-dozen future in-laws that secretly entered into mine and Mila's bedroom, which EVERYONE knows is strictly off limits to anyone but us, and stole a most valuable stash of Ros Arms Russian Cutlery and the single-most beautiful pair of engraved blades with 24ct, solid gold gilding I've ever owned.
It crushed me. I took down every single one of the 70-80 knives I had hanging or laying on display, wrapped them, protected them (Cleaned, lubed, polished, etc.) and gave them to my so with the admonition that I I don't even want to LOOK at the other $2K-$2.5K in knives when they arrive next week. I don't think I EVER want to see another quality knife again as long as I live.
Every time i even think of those knives I will know for certain that people I thought I could trust the most in my life stole from me not just knives, but the sanctity, security, peaceful and quiet safety and security that I, hell, ANYONE should have the right to expect and enjoy within the confines of their home.
Not just this incident, but any similar circumstance should never be visited upon anyone in their home surrounded by people who supposedly love them.
Just when I thought I could again live and have a good time my dreams get smashed, rubbed into the dirt, and I guess life will never seem the same again. Oh, I know that I am far from the first and will be far from the last to be ripped off by prospective new family, but this has hurt me far worst then I would have imagined as someone with certain knowledge that, if I'm lucky, I have only lost twenty to thirty years of my lifespan from the ravages of cancer, the permanent damage to every cartilaginous structure in my throat, the eternal pain in which I must live, the handfuls of drugs that damn near leave me comatose, multiple rounds of double pneumonia; I guess I just got cocky and figured it was time for my to get a break.
Well it's finally happened. My spirit is crushed, I must blind myself to that which I must see, and I once again must forfeit any right I may once thought I had to believe that life can be worthwhile living. If the thief had been truly in need, come to me to ask help, they would have gladly received my help if able.
By doing it this way he/she has proven themselves gutless cowards, broken further an already broken heart, broken the bounds of trust among purported future family members, and proven once again that it is easier to steal from someone who trusts them than to seek honest work and pay their own way in the real world. A real puke-faced coward all right.