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Yesterday Mr. Lucky and I were back in court. We had to be there at 9 a.m. because, since God knows no one can tell you what time your case will actually be called, you have to sit there and wait. I’d been awake since 4:13 a.m. crying and praying that five years of supervised probation wouldn’t mean five years of house arrest because that would just kill Mr. Lucky (and me, to be honest). In those wee morning hours I still believed (sucker that I am) that Mr. Lucky would be entering his plea during our appearance. And then a 7:08 a.m. text message from our attorney, Cary, informed me that, once again, that would not be the case.
The judge we needed was unavailable. The paperwork from the prosecutor's office was not finished. Our appearance would be another nothing in a long line of nothings. We’d be there just to request ANOTHER continuance. Do you know how long that takes? Thirty seconds. Know how long we had to wait for that thirty seconds? Two and a half hours.
So, we go back on August 12.
Image by Noah Buscher via Unsplash
Funnily enough, I recall when Cary told me – ages ago – that most likely Mr. Lucky’s case would not be resolved until September. At the time, I thought he meant September of 2023. Not bad, since it was April of ‘23 when he said it. “Oh no,” he replied when I got excited at the prospect of the ordeal lasting just five months. “I mean September of 2024.”
Damn if he wasn’t right.
My gut already tells me that August 12 will come and go without my son’s plea deal being entered. And until it’s entered, there can be no sentencing. And without his sentencing and knowing the exact specifications of the probation, we can’t move forward with any plans for him. And it means my life – and Rob’s – remain on hold.
But we’re figuring that out.
As you may have read in my last post, I was home for a week with my sweetheart. That little respite was brought to us by Mr. Rugby’s Back Surgery. (Have you seen it? It’s new on Netflix! Haha. Only $40,000 for a week in Naples, Florida. There’s a bargain for you.) In all seriousness, what I mean is, Mr. Rugby can’t go anywhere, he’s stuck here recovering. So he’s the perfect stunt warden for Mr. Lucky.
Trust me, I’ll be pressing him into service again soon. Very soon. Like this weekend. Sure, it’s expensive to fly back and forth from Virginia to Florida, but we’re looking at it as investment spending – an investment in our relationship. We’re good, solid (like a rock), so no worries friends. But it’s important to take the time to make sure we stay that way.
Thank you for still being here for this long, strange trip. I appreciate you and your many comments and emails and all your prayers. If you’d like to read parts 1-73, you can do so here. And, if you’d like to check out my newest book, BOUNCE: A Memoir of Resilience, you can read the first two chapters FREE here.
Susan, I am so sorry this is dragging on. Please forgive me if this has already been asked and answered, but have you been in touch with an autism advocate? This whole situation seems incredibly punitive for an adult with a documented developmental disability. It's not like he committed a violent crime. I'm frustrated for you, but also thinking of my own son with asd, and the amount of time and public money (and your own finances) wasted prosecuting a person who couldn't understand the consequences of their actions.
What torture!!! 🤞for 8/12. Who knows? It could happen 😁❤️❤️❤️