Posted in Devastating sadness, Disappointment, Entreprenuer, expat life, Grief, life lessons, parents of deceased children, sadness, Uncategorized

Jail Time

That time I went to jail I have never written about. People who are close to me know. I am writing a chapter for my book now about my 36 hours in Broward County jail.  It is still so fresh in my memory. It was horrible, I was shown a side of society I didn’t know existed. Jail was something I read about in books, or watched in movies. The reality is very different. No matter your place in society, the treatment is disturbing from the moment you are arrested to the time inside the jail, the lack of compassion, the complete cruelty I experienced by the police and the people who worked in the prison. However, the other inmates were pretty darn cool with me. It was obvious to them I didn’t belong there. They comforted me, they gave me a lot of reasons to write it down, but I never did. I have never written about it before because it shows my daughter in a way that is not flattering, something that I have not wanted to do. I need to heal myself, recent events have made me realize I have not done that. Even with therapy, my move to Colombia, these moments in time exist and they bring me to places I only think about when I awake at night and cannot sleep.

I was arrested on false charges. I was an innocent to what the rules are when the police show up at your door. I had no clue about anything about police visits to your home. If I had known, this experience would never have happened. It was a nightmare that you dream and then wake up with your heart beating fast inside your chest. Surreal, incomprehensible, I am sure my mug shot exists somewhere even though all charges were expunged. I didn’t even understand that they were taking my mug shot. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t understand all that was happening and it was very harsh, with a lot of merciless treatment by all involved who work in the system of Broward County, Florida.

Now I am writing it down in a chapter for my book. I am leaving nothing out. The dreadful side of my daughter, the crappy friends she had, one who has my sweet grandchild in her care right now without any legal papers of custody. I am telling the story. All of it, the lessons I learned from experiences I had no control over. Including my daughter meeting the father of my beloved grandchild. I am going to tell you the entire experience from the time of my arrest until I was let out to the street outside the jail of Broward County without a charged cell phone, no shoes, and no money.

A wonderful cab driver gave me a ride with my promise of payment if he could just take me to my house. I didn’t even have a key to get inside my own home! I will always remember the kind treatment I received from the other inmates, from that cab driver, the father of my grandchild: who when he heard what Misha had done made her immediately go to drop the charges. This is hard just to say in a blog. I went to jail. I was 50 years old, I could have lost my job, that is what Misha did. Wait for it. Coming soon to all who want to buy my book. I am writing the chapter now. It is funny at times, but it is also very terrifying to anyone who might think it could never happen to you. It can and I experienced it.

 

 

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