As an adult, sometimes you find yourself at the tail-end of a situation and you will has a flashback to something similar happening in your past. Specifically, you will remember how your own parent(s) may have dealt with something you are now experiencing with your own offspring.
Today I flashed back to a time when I was in high school and with my newly acquired permit, I was driving with my grandmother and just when I was pulling into our drive-way, which was on a slight hill, I hit my mother’s Lincoln Continental car. If that wasn’t bad enough, the bumper of my 1971 Chevy pick up got caught on the bumper of the Lincoln and was locked that way! So, I was literally stuck in the collision with only the option of going inside the house and asking my father to help me solve the problem. The anticipation of his reaction caused my heart to race, but my steps to slow as I made my way through the door. I don’t remember the words I used to convey the accident and tangled metal which still awaited our return outside, but I do remember I ended the confession with choked words as I began to cry. It’s the memory of what happened next that has stayed with me over the past 27 years and what I reflected on late this Sunday afternoon.
My dad, who at his best was intimidating and gruff, smiled at me and said, “Babe, crying isn't going to make it any better….if it does, then hell, I’ll cry with you! Now, let’s get out there and take care of it.” Nobody except my mother and sister will ever completely understand the feelings I experienced in that moment, but in that moment, I could not have been more surprised or relieved. I learned so much from that accident, the most important thing of all was that I could go to my parents with anything and no matter how much I dreaded it, they would be there for me and help me through it, no matter how bad the situation.
So, tonight, I reflect on my daughter’s series of calls and text messages from Missouri; first to tell me that she hit a curb and had blown a tire – but she had already called AAA and was awaiting their arrival in the next hour, then to let me know that the driver had changed her tire, but that the tire was flat and she was at a station trying to get it aired up, and then finally to let me know that AAA had sent out another road-side assistance driver who had aired up the tire and tightened the lug-nuts for her (left un-tightened by the first guy) and she was mobile again and several communications in between regarding WalMart and Big O Tires as possible locations she would purchase a replacement tire. And, as I remember my own words to saying, "it was good that it wasn’t worse, it could have been a person she hit and it was God’s way of tapping her on the shoulder to be more careful", I hope she doesn’t feel too bad and isn’t being too hard on herself. I can’t remember how many times she apologized for the accident, all the time holding back her tears.
So, I hope that I didn’t make her feel worse than she already felt and when she flashes back to the memory, she will have the same smile on her face that I have when I remember how my dad made me feel in 1982. Because that tire didn’t mean anything to me, it’s the girl driving who means the world to me. Bumpers didn't matter that much in 1982 and tires don't matter much in 2009...but daughters are always valuable and irreplaceable...we just have to make them feel that way no matter what the year.
Maya Angelou once wrote, “People will forget what you say. People will forget what you do. But, people will always remember how you made them feel.”
