I was prosecuted for a crime I didn’t commit a long time ago. In fact, I was blindsided by the news that I was the target of a criminal investigation on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, so that day as much as it is filled with the anticipation of wonderful Thanksgiving opportunities, there’s still an ever present “sting” that remains. It changed me in ways that I am not sure that I have the words for.
It was first thing in the morning on Wednesday when I got the call from the prosecutor. He got right to the point and I was in such shock that I honestly can’t remember a word I said. I wouldn’t have known what to say.
I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t know who to ask. It was a terrible feeling of hopelessness that I had never known. The word target kept reverberating in my head. It sounded as bad as I felt.
I worked in a tall downtown bank building for a trust department. When I hung up the phone from listening to the prosecutor, my instincts told me that I needed to get out of my office. I ran down 3 flights of stairs and found the nearest door to outside. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. Outside, I leaned against the brick building and looked around for a moment. While I am sure it seemed to everyone else just a normal day, the world I knew had just crashed.
I knew this news would change my life from that second and I had no control over it.
But… It’s Thanksgiving. I had always enjoyed the holiday. It meant family to me. It meant taking a break from the normal stuff to intentionally show gratitude, to reflect and just be together. I had young children and they expected to see a Mom with a smile with a bunch of fun things to do and see to enjoy the holiday.
At that moment, I couldn’t imagine being that Mom. The Mom I had always tried to be and wanted to be.
After walking aimlessly around the building for what seemed like hours, I figured out that I could call a friend that was an attorney and he would hopefully know what to do. I made that call and he gave me a list of 3 attorneys to consider to call that were criminal defense attorneys.
I picked one, Dan, and called his office. A lovely young woman named Brenna greeted me on the phone. Although she completely understood the level of distress that I was in, Dan had already left for the holiday. In as calming a voice as she could, she recommended that I enjoy the holiday and we could get together on Monday. Seemed like reasonable advice, but these were unreasonable circumstances. I really had no choice though. People were scattering for the holiday and I had to figure out how I was going to show up.
It was, undeniably, the first day of my transformation—an unexpected beginning that revealed a reason to give thanks I could never have imagined.
