I wanted to share this post today since we are all in a time of worry and panic. Sometimes it’s good to have time to reflect and look back on the good moments we have had. AND that we have good moments ahead waiting for us. Today this is a memory of my Dad that made me smile and wanted to share that we can all still smile.
I got my first ever traffic ticket when I was sixteen. One night I was driving back home from seeing a friend, it was late so no one else was really out on the road. All of a sudden I heard whoop whoop and saw the red and blue lights; it was a cop signaling for me to pull over. He told me I ran a stop sign. I can tell you I 100% stopped because I was paranoid about being pulled over; go figure. I also happened to have a broken tail light (again seriously give me a break, who can see the back of their car?) But whatever.
Ugh! Now I had to tell my Mom and Dad I got a ticket. I barely worked and knew nothing of saving money so there was no way I would be able to afford this ticket on my own. Looking back I really wish I had been smarter and learned how to save, but if you look back in my history I never truly had to worry because my Dad bailed me out of every situation.
The ticket was expensive. In the $300 range. I was told though, that as long as I got it fixed, they would most likely drop the tail light part of the ticket.
My Dad said he would go with me since I was nervous and was also under the age of eighteen so he was allowed to go in with me. Plus he was going to be the one who had to pay for the ticket anyway.
I’ll never forget that day. Why? No idea. The room was packed full of people waiting to try and fight their tickets. I was super nervous, so I was happy my Dad was there. As always he came off so sure and confident you couldn’t help but kind of feel the energy he gave off.
When my name was called I sat in front of this woman who decides what you pay or don’t, while my Dad took the seat that was directly behind me. The woman started to ask me my side of the story; and immediately my Dad started to speak for me.
The woman cut my Dad off mid-sentence in a stern voice saying “Sir, I wasn’t asking you. I was asking your daughter.”
I didn’t even have to look at him to know that seriously pissed him off. Steven Chance didn’t take well to being told what to do.
So, she once again asked for my side of the story. When I stopped talking my Dad went to add something and she immediately told him she would ask him to leave if he kept interrupting. Quickly I spun around to face my Dad and gritting my teeth whispered: “Shut…Up.” I didn’t want this ticket to not get dismissed because my Dad had a problem being talked down to. Not that I was paying it, it was him that really needed the money to be lowered.
Luckily my Dad behaved himself and she did end up lowering my ticket significantly. As we left I just started to laugh. I couldn’t help it because of course that happened to us. And It was hilarious to see my Dad be put in a position where he couldn’t do what he wanted.
I love this memory because it was just so hilarious to see him be put in his place and have no say.
But… it was funny; especially to me and it had been a real treat to see my Dad tested when usually he was the one in control.
Well fast forward to today, I got a ticket a few months ago and was at a stop sign and I was putting my phone on the hand’s free device so it wouldn’t be out.
I looked and saw the lights.
And to top it off, I was just leaving therapy so I was already emotional and frazzled. Just frosting to the cake right?
So back to Traffic Court, it was. Again I was nervous as hell – authority makes me downright nervous, and skittish. Why? I’m still trying to work that one out.
After waiting in line I walk into the room where we have to wait. And of course, it’s the same exact room I had been in for the ticket years and years ago with my Dad. I mean, of course, it was. I took a seat and looking around I saw everything that had happened years ago as clear as day in my head.
I could see him standing by the vending machine pacing, because well he was impatient (just like I am) waiting for us to be called. I could see him there like he was actually in the room. A few people near me started to make friendly chatter so I got distracted but I couldn’t help but keep seeing my Dad in my head.
It didn’t make me sad. It made me smile. Maybe on a different day, I would have felt differently I honestly never know what emotions are going to come out sometimes. Our emotions make no sense when it comes to someone we have lost or loved.
But I am always ready to hold onto the ones that can make me smile. And I will hold onto every single one. I can finally smile when I am reminded of my Dad.
It’s always the silly small things we remember fondly. Walking into that room was like walking into the past- and for once I didn’t mind it.