My Own Personal Helicopter

Something miraculous happened Thursday and Friday.

In the middle of my fretting about money and PIN numbers and my check hung up in the banking system, I heard a news report about unclaimed property and how easy it is to search for your name on data bases set up by individual states.

On a whim, I searched. Lo and behold, there was my name. I called the moment the Dept. of Commerce opened on Friday, and they verified it: they're holding a substantial amount of money in my name. I have all the necessary records to show ownership, I just can not understand how this happened.

The Winged One and I talked at length about the morality of claiming the money if I can't be 100 percent sure it's owed to me. It's the legacy of a complicated insurance claim when my house was damaged by hail at the time my insurance carrier was being bought out by another company. Yada. Yada. Yada.

The Dept. of Commerce explained that the money had been turned over to them by the insurance company. The only things that can happen to it now are: I can claim it, my heirs can claim it after I die, or it can stay in the state's coffers, drawing interest.

Insurance companies are not known for their generosity nor for their willingness to turn loose of money when not absolutely necessary. I have much greater faith in their accounting abilities than in my own. If they turned this money over to the State, they did it because they had to. I may not understand how all this worked, but you can bet your sweet patootie they do.

As we talked, Mystic Wing asked why I feared the bad karma of claiming something I don't recognize as mine without even wondering if this turn of events might simply be good karma. We laughed about the old joke where a guy is on a roof top in a flood, praying to be delivered. He turns down help from a bunch of sources, including a rowboat and a helicopter, always saying he's a believer and that God will save him. When he meets God, he asks why God didn't save him. God replies, "What did you want from me? I sent you a rowboat and a XXX and a XXX and a helicopter."

Is this unclaimed property a rowboat? Am I too stubborn to get into the damn helicopter?

I filled out the claim forms. Later, I was driving through the countryside. The sky was a brilliant, clear blue. The only marks, horizon to horizon, were two vapor trails that crossed in such a way they created a perfect heart.

I'd never seen anything like it. Vapor trails, being the paths of planes and all, are almost always fairly straight. Not these. They curved into a beautiful, expressive heart, the sight of which stopped mine for a second.

Is it pure arrogance to imagine the Universe was sending me a sign?

I believe in signs, in omens and portent. I believe we can steer by the signals the Universe sends us if we pay attention. Or, I think I believe that. It's easy in the abstract. But face-to-face with what could be a sighting of the Great Unknown, it's hard to be certain.

I mailed the claim an hour later. What's that? You can't hear me? Pay no attention to that noise. It's just my helicopter, getting ready to land.