Flashback Friday #1

"Life- please pause, I need to spend some time with my blog!"

I close the door behind me. I turn the key in the lock.

Finally! in my Hobbit hole- just me and my old Sony Vaio, my Random House college dictionary, my fat Synonym Finder, my Concordia study Bible, a stack of books I'm currently reading, a notebook, a plastic jar of pens and pencils (all with broken lead) sipping hot coffee with a hundred friends from around the world sharing what makes our hearts beat....

what's that?

A knock.

"Nobody home!"

Today is the kick-off for a new meme called Flashback Friday hosted by Linda at Mocha with Linda. She posts the questions on her blog and if you want to participate, you bring the Q's to your blog and answer them there. Here are the first set of Q's for this new meme.

"How and when did you learn to drive? Do you have any particular memories associated with getting your driver license? How old were you when you got your first car and what was it? Who paid for it?"

A while back, Krippled Warrior from Some Things I Have Learned said this in his post entitled Name Your Fear...: "So tell me what thing or things puts fear in your heart."

Ever since I read that post, I've been pondering all the things that put fear in my heart. Ridiculously, there are many, not the least of which is driving.

Several years ago our first child turned 15 and someone informed him that he was old enough to take driver's ed. Suddenly, whenever I looked at him all I could see was my helpless little boy, who needed me for every ounce of sustenance, behind the wheel of an automobile moving through actual, real live traffic. He was sitting on top of a stack of phone books, so he could see out the window.

I decided then, I had to try as hard as I could to get to the root of my driving fear, so I could deal with it and kill it. Otherwise I would never live through what was about to occur.

The first step was: recall when you learned to drive, where you were and who was instructing you. So, I tried that. I thought and I thought and I thought some more. But I could not bring up one memory of learning to drive. I asked my mother. Zippo. She couldn't remember either, though she was certain that I did take driver's ed. at my high school, in 1979, in the state of Michigan where the course was required for teenagers seeking a license.

That's when I knew.

I have actually blocked from memory this entire terrifying experience. I wonder if the instructor who was assigned to my 'Student Driver' car on the day I had to practice highway driving is still living. I would really like to know how that went.

So, I have no idea how old I was when I got my license, but I'm going to guess 16 , because I remember I had a job in a clothing store on main street in Farmtown, where I lived in those days, and I distinctly remember driving myself to work.

I believe the car was light blue, automatic and a Ford- a hatchback maybe- an Escort maybe. I know for sure my dad bought it, so I could use it to get to work. I drove it a couple of miles to school, a couple of miles to work and eventually I drove it about two hours worth of miles each way, to college.

I do remember parking illegally about $60 worth of tickets and that my father got the bill. I remember the letter I wrote to the Chief of Police begging him for mercy to forgive my debt of parking tickets. And I remember the phone call from his secretary telling me that my letter amused him so much he had decided to dismiss the debt, but "just don't do it again."

To this day, being honked at, flipped off and cursed out (I can see the words they are mouthing at me in my rear view mirror) is just a part of my everyday driving experience. I'm used to it.

Once, an impatient driver, who unfortunately ended up behind me at a stop sign, put his car in park, got out of his vehicle, came up to my van and tapped on the window. I rolled 'er down and tried not to let my countenance show too much emotion when he asked: "Do you think you might be making this left turn today?!?"

Even though I know better than to fear anything, I live with a nagging fear that merging may not work out for me, that I will not end up in the correct lane when it is time to enter or exit, that someone won't feel like letting me in and that I will come to the end of the disappearing lane without a gap, parked there in that point of no return- cars passing on both sides at 70 miles per hour.

My children have grown up listening to me audibly talk my way through lane changes, passing, getting on, exiting- in an attempt to get them to millions of destinations miles from our home that have required driving on highways. (If it wasn't for the kids wanting to go here and there, I'd never drive on the highway) I'm not talking about just directional words, but pep talks to myself: "You can do this, Heidi, you can do this, stay in your lane, keep your speed at the speed of the other traffic, look, use your mirrors, steady, steady and MERGE!" Not too many things cause me to sweat like merging does.

When our kids were in elementary school, moms would tell their children: "Remember Johnny, when you go on the field trip today, don't ride with Mrs. I.T.?" I tried not to volunteer, but somebody had to get all those kids to the zoo.

I figure God has some things left for us to do, because 31 years later I'm still here and all our kids are driving.

And for that I am truly thankful.