JULY 29, 2008……….Osceola County Courthouse
I had just returned from a visit to Key West and was working my way through the mail from my Post Office Box when I came across something from the Florida Department of Transportation. Good grief, what did they want and why didn’t I see this piece of mail the first time through. I opened the envelope to read a notice that my driver’s license had been suspended for non-payment of a speeding ticket I had gotten in Osceola County.
I have never been given a speeding ticket before in my entire life, this was absurd. Then I remembered a conversation with Joshua a few months ago, he called to let me know about an incident involving my license. An officer had written him a ticket and since my name was listed first on the car registration he had written it in my name in error, called my son later to tell him because of his mistake the ticket had been dismissed.
Joshua had called me that very day to inform me of what had happened and explained he wasn’t entirely certain of the officer’s competency. He wanted me to know about the situation just it in case anything ever came of it.
Well, it had come.
I called the courthouse and was told I had to appear at the courthouse and pay the fine in order to get my license back. I decided to drive down immediately on my suspended license and called Joshua to see what he was doing that night. He was playing music at a club in Orlando.
Perfect, I hadn’t heard him play music in a long time and there was another Dating-site-guy I wanted to meet who lived in a place called The Villages, somewhere north of Orlando. Looks like I was making an impromptu visit to Orlando. I’m always up for a journey, planned or not!
On the way south I called a girlfriend and told her my book was almost finished and all I needed now was a publisher. She wished me good luck and offered to help me with any book tours in the Florida Keys. I thought it would be fun to promote my husband’s music and the book. It would also give me another great reason to be in the Keys again.
I spoke to Joshua, who had already eaten, and told him I was hungry and wanted to stop at the first place I could get some fish for dinner. He suggested I not eat at the English Pub he was performing at; all I would find there would be fish and chips and he knew it was fare I would not enjoy.
I pulled into Bonefish Grill, found a place to park, walked in and sat at the bar. It was the night of the All Star Baseball Game and I was looking forward to watching the beginning of it. I ordered a glass of wine and struck up a conversation with the happy bartenders. I love to talk to strangers, especially happy ones. These girls nearly went into hysterics when I said, “Bless his heart,” talking about someone with a bit of an attitude. They explained they always used that phrase when talking about troubled people and knew immediately I was “one of them.”
A young man sat at the bar and he didn’t look quite as happy. He was talking on his cell phone, telling a friend he had just gotten off work and was going to grab a bite to eat. I smiled and said hello and we made small talk while waiting for our dinners.
As they began introducing the baseball players I realized this wasn’t just ANY All Star Game. This was at Yankee Stadium and all the players who were still alive who’d played in an All Star Game were being introduced. It was quite nostalgic and I was truly grateful to be watching. I love baseball.
When they introduced one of the Red Sox players there were a few people working at the bar who booed them. I asked them why they were booing and they said, “Cause we are Yankee fans.”
I sternly told them, “We are on the same team for this game, let’s cheer together,” I finished with a smile.
“Oh, ok,” they said rather reluctantly but then we began cheering for each others players and laughed and looked for approval each time we did. The young man who’d sat at the bar laughed and cheered with us.
As I was getting ready to leave I asked the young man what had brought him to Orlando, and he said he was here for a trade show. When I asked him what he did he told me he worked for a publishing company. I told him I had just told a friend on the phone how my book was nearly finished and all I needed was to find a publisher.
He told me if his company couldn’t help me he would be able to direct me to someone who would and then he asked me what my book was about.
“Well, it’s a little about the end of my life with my husband, his death last year and things people can do to make the loss of a spouse easier. It’s a lot about how Spirit World is always trying to talk to us, to help us,” I explained as I watched his face glow with compassion.
“I am so sorry for your loss, what did he do for a living?” he asked.
“He was a musician, he played folk music, original music, Grateful Dead tunes and bluegrass,” I
smiled proudly as I described what Red did for a living.
“I love music and I particularly love bluegrass music,” he told me.
I got out my card and asked him for his email address. I promised to send him some of my late husband’s music and he promised to help me find the right publisher.
“My wife was killed in a car accident 2 years ago,” he added, sadly.
“Oh, I am so sorry for your loss,” I told him. “Did you have any children?”
“No, we had just celebrated our 1st anniversary,” he said solemnly.
“Oh, I am so very sorry for your loss,” I told him while I silently thanked the Universe for the 9 years I’d had with Red.
“You know, she wants you to be happy. She wants you to move on,” I was getting messages again and I hoped they would be well received.
He smiled and told me he was, “Currently interviewing women on a dating site he had found on the Internet.”
I laughed and said, “That’s a good way to put it. I am currently interviewing men on a dating site I found. I am not really looking for anyone to replace my late husband. I am just practicing being single again.”
Then I looked at him and said, “I have found Spirit World is always trying to talk to us. It often sends us butterflies to remind us death is simply a door to a new life in a new dimension.”
His mouth fell open and he said, “I can’t believe you would mention butterflies. Every time I see a butterfly I think of Emily. Her favorite place was the Butterfly Emporium in our home town. She would spend hours there letting butterflies land on her and would go there as often as she could. I believe you were sent here to talk to me tonight.”
As I handed him my card and took his and put it in my purse, I told him, “There are no mistakes.”
As I rushed out the door, hoping to get to my son’s gig before he started playing, I realized I was going to meet his new girlfriend, whose name was also Emily. You are right Diane, there really are no mistakes.
July 30, Wednesday
I got up early and headed for the court house in Osceola County. I had had a wonderful time listening to Joshua last night and truly enjoyed his new girl friend. We talked about the miracles and beauties of life while we listened to Joshua sing song after song.
I parked my truck and went inside and stood in line behind approximately a dozen people, most of them very upset about having to be there. I was trying to keep a good attitude and hoped I could straighten this all out quickly and easily.
When my turn came to talk to someone behind the glass she looked at the ticket, written in my name and signed by my son. The officer responsible for the error had never followed through on voiding out the ticket and she explained to me I would have to pay the ticket to get my license reinstated and then file for an identity hearing as there was obviously a mistake in identity. She was unsure how much of my money I would get back so I reluctantly paid the $180 fine and filled out the paperwork for the hearing.
Once she was finished making copies for everything and apologizing for the errors made, she gave me directions to the Department of Motor Vehicles, my next destination to get my license reinstated. I thanked her for her time and headed out the door.
I arrived at the Department of Motor Vehicles and stood in line to get a number there. There were several dozen angry people here so I had a feeling it would be a long wait. I got my number and sat and watched the people interact unpleasantly with the clerks and with each other while I imagined my white bubble of protection around me and hoping I still had a good attitude when it was my turn. Watching some children play kept me smiling inside.
Over an hour had passed when my number was called and I approached the counter with a smile. The woman looked up at me and grabbed my paperwork. My only thought was she was probably wondering why I would be smiling in a place like this. Neither she nor anyone else in the place had a pleasant attitude.
She rudely told me my license had expired and I would need to pay a $40 fee to reinstate it. I told her I had a credit card and she said they did not take credit cards. I checked my purse and thankfully found $41 in my wallet. She brought me into the back and we talked while she filled out the necessary forms. When I asked her if there was any chance of getting my money back because this was all a big mistake she laughed and said, “No honey. We don’t give refunds.”
I left there feeling like a victim of the system and drove towards Leesburg to a place called The Villages where I was going to have lunch with Match-date #2. He sounded interesting on the phone but the fact he lived in a retirement community had me wondering whether he really was fun loving and adventurous. His profile on the dating site led one to believe he was full of fun.
He called to let me know he was going to be about half an hour late due to a doctor’s appointment he had forgotten. I told him that was fine, I would find a place to relax and when he approached the Village Square he could give me a call.
Ok, he lives in a retirement community, he forgets appointments and he is going to the doctor. This ought to be interesting.
I sat by the water and watched the birds for awhile and decided to meditate. He said he would call on his way here so I felt safe to sit with my eyes closed and relax with The Universe for awhile.
I was startled out of a deep meditation by someone saying, “Diane. Diane. Wake up.”
I opened my eyes to see a tall man standing in front of me who looked vaguely familiar. Oh, this was my date. He looked a little like the photo on the Internet but much older. Why would anyone use old pictures instead of current ones? Do they think they still look like they did 10 years ago? Are they embarrassed by the way they look now? I felt sorry for all the people in the world that aren’t happy with themselves.
“I wasn’t sleeping. I was meditating,” I told him as I smiled and offered him my hand. “And I am starving,” I added.
“I’m sorry I am so late. I had no idea the visit would take so long. Let’s go in and eat,” he shook my hand in a very formal rigid manner and started towards the door of the restaurant he had chosen to eat in. I noticed it was a sports bar and I hoped they had something besides wings and pizza.
We sat and talked about ourselves. I told him about the work I do as a wellness coach, teaching yoga, nutrition and the values of positive thinking. I didn’t mention frequency healing or the tools I sold. I knew that would be too much for him to digest.
As I sat and listened to him tell me of his past as a Navy Seal and his years of traveling in the armed services I wondered where he got the “fun” part of his dating name. I now knew his traveling was a result of being in the armed forces but where the fun came from, I am not sure. I’d had more fun at the dentist office. At least the people there smiled and joked with me. This man had absolutely no sense of humor and I don’t believe he smiled once throughout our entire lunch.
As I drove away I was busy thanking The Universe for my life and who I am. I went towards what I believed would be west and was looking forward to being home on the Suwannee where I didn’t have to pretend I was having a good time. I was ready to relax and just be me.
I drove through Ocala, after a few wrong turns but always laughing when I saw the “Red Barn Furniture Store” and the “Red this or that.” I think Red was laughing right along with me. What a day.
My phone rang just as I turned onto Route 27, a familiar highway. It was clear sailing from here.
I looked at the number on my caller ID to see who was calling. It was a 407 area code so I answered it not knowing to whom I would be talking, “Hello, this is Diane.”
The voice on the line said, “Hello, Diane. This is Osceola County Courthouse calling. I see you have requested an identity hearing.”
“Yes,” I answered thinking how wonderfully quick they were to act on my case.
“I also see you paid the ticket in question this morning,” she continued.
“Yes. I was told I had to pay it in order to reinstate my license. The woman had me fill out the forms for the identity hearing after she took my payment,” I explained to this person on my phone. I had a feeling this was not going to be good news.
“You cannot request an identity hearing on a ticket you have already paid. When you pay a ticket you have admitted you are guilty,” she stated.
“But I cannot drive without a license. I have never been issued a ticket before in my entire life and I could not drive on a suspended license. What do you suggest I do now?” I asked her breathing deeply and trying really hard not to be angry. It wasn’t this woman who had inappropriately directed me to pay the fine.
“I guess you can write a letter to the Judges of Osceola County explaining all that has happened. I see very clearly this is not your signature on the ticket,” she offered.
“Let me pull over and get your fax number and I will send it to you as soon as I arrive home,” I told her as I pulled to the side of Highway 27. I wrote the number she gave me on my pad of paper I keep handy and thanked her while I tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. A letter to the Judges of Osceola County sounded like a movie title or a country song. What fun Red and I would have had making up lyrics to this one!
As I got back on the road I called my son to tell him what had happened so he could make phone calls to the officer and the sergeant in charge. Then I called the numbers of the officer and his boss to let them know I would be writing a letter to the Judges of Osceola County explaining what had happened and they had 24 hours before I faxed this letter to the courthouse. I hoped I hadn’t been too firm but this really had gone too far.
Fortunately, the following morning I received a call informing me the ticket was dismissed and I would be receiving a refund. Unfortunately, when the refund came it was about $90 short. I guess Osceola County and I learned a different kind of math.
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