Driving Lessons

I think one of the important elements of parenting is to know your strengths and weaknesses. For instance, when it came time to teach the children to ride their bike without training wheels, I definitively knew this was Jerry's thing. A considerable intolerance for being outside and a lack of patience made me the most unlikely candidate for such a task. Besides, I always made the kids wear a helmet, knee and elbow pads. They would complain they couldn't peddle with the knee pads on to which I would reply, "Be quiet before I mummy wrap you in bubble wrap too." Jerry could handle seeing the kids spilled and splattered onto the pavement -- I preferred not seeing them until they could stay on the bike, break and dismount without shedding one drop of blood. Fast-forward now to the teenage years and it being time to teach your oldest to drive. I guess technically it's an outdoor activity but since I can still sit in the comfort of air conditioning or heat, I didn't mind taking on the challenge. I very vividly remember sitting in that blue Impala driving around the Randhurst parking lot with my Mom -- good times -- those were the days! I can make the same lasting memories with my kids --.

For the past year I've been Amanda's primary driving instructor. If I've learned anything from this experience it has been -- Jerry will have to be Monica and Zach's primary driving instructor. I will develop a serious heart condition if I have to go through this experience again. Amanda gets all flustered with me and she often whines, "Don't yell at me while I'm driving." It's not that I yell as a disciplinary action and I think my yelling is warranted. You know, when you see an ambulance coming head on and your driving daughter oblivious to its existence, I don't think yelling, "STOP! GET OVER! AMBULUANCE HEAD ON!" is unreasonable. I also don't think it unreasonable to yell after that same driving daughter nonchalantly tells you, "What? I didn't see it." So yelling, "HOW COULD YOU NOT SEE OR HEAR AN AMBULUANCE FLASHING IT’S LIGHTS, COMING HEAD ON AND EVERY OTHER CAR ON THE ROAD PULLED OVER?" Hey, who says Lamaze is just for childbirth? Those breathing exercises come in handy when you feel like shaking sense into your child. Like I said earlier, patience is not my virtue.

Wanting to finish the job I started, I realized the only thing we've not yet done in Amanda's driving lessons was highway driving. To give Amanda credit, she really is a good driver. The mistakes she makes are just part of the learning process. The problem is me, mostly.

Sunday afternoon we were just all kind of hanging out so I decided to take Amanda out for a drive. Monica came with us as my intent was just to drive around town and perhaps stop for ice cream along the way. OK, I confess -- my intent was to get ice cream under the premise of taking Amanda out to drive. There, I said it! I'm so ashamed. We were driving around town only to find our little Ice Cream spot was closed. I decided we'd just drive around some more. When I saw we were approaching the on ramp to I-70, I decided it was time for some interstate experience. After all, Amanda has been driving for over a year now. It can't be avoided forever! In retrospect, I guess it would have been better for Amanda had we planned this and not just spring it on her. She didn't have time to emotionally prepare but that's what I thought was good! She didn't have time to worry about it -- and we all know what a worry wart she can be!

I instruct Amanda to get into the turning lane and she says, "There? Turn left? Going on the highway? There? Mom?" I sensed she was nervous so I acted like it was no big deal, "Sure. You're ready. Let's try it." We circled around the on ramp and as we approach the highway I'm now more nervous than she. What was I thinking? Is she really ready for this? I have Monica in the back seat for goodness sakes! Where is my clarity of mind? Amanda was very hesitant to merge into traffic so she was going quite slowly. I was in the passenger seat looking over my shoulder at this truck coming our way and the left lane blocked so he couldn't get over and I repeated, "Speed up, speed up, Amanda -- speed up.....! In the outside mirror I can see another van on our tail anxious to speed up for his own merge into traffic but not able to do so with Amanda in the way. My eyes are darting between the truck, road ahead, the van behind us and Amanda. In those split seconds I realize if I instruct her to break, we’re getting rear-ended by the van. If she doesn’t speed up, we’re getting run over by the truck. If we hit the guard rail, we’re getting smashed in by both. There is no shoulder to escape to. We are now sandwiched between a speeding truck, van and the guard rail. "Amanda, speed up. Don't be afraid. Speed up! SPEED UP! AMANDA!" She kept creeping along and finally I yelled, "FLOOR IT!" The next thing I knew my head was pinned against the head rest and out of the corner of my eye I could see Amanda's hands tightly gripping the wheel at the perfect 3 o'clock and 9 o'clock positions to the point her knuckles were bright white. We merged just ahead of the truck when, finding an opening in the left lane, the truck gets over and passes us. As my heart begins to slow down to a normal pace, I realize my right foot is pinned to the floor of the van in my attempt to make the ghost accelerator peddle on my side speed up the van. I relax my tightened muscles, take a deep breath and look over at Amanda. Her eyes were wide and intent on the road and her body was so stiff she looked like a statue. I don't think she was breathing so I said, "Relax Amanda. Take a deep breath. You did fine." I see her chest rise and fall as she takes in some air for the first time in several minutes (which is what it seemed like) and the color returns to her face. I look back at Monica who seemed to have taken the whole thing in stride -- her feathers never seem to get ruffled, so I thought.

Silence the rest of the way home.

Pulling into the driveway of 1019 Lofton Drive was never so comforting. As I get out of the van Monica approaches me from behind and in a very soft whisper she says to me, "Sissy almost killed us!"

Sissy did no such thing. Her mother, however, put two children and herself into a path of danger. Amanda didn’t speak a word about it.

Later that night while relaxing and playing cards, Amanda blurts out of no where, “Man, you just don’t realize how fast those cars are coming on the highway until you get behind the wheel.” We all broke into some nervous laughter and I felt a surge of relief, regret and pride.

It’s confirmed.

Jerry takes the helm with Monica and Zach’s driving lessons.

The Memory of My Mom

When you become a parent, you can't help but look for yourself or your spouse in their tiny faces. As soon as a child is born, the parents immediately try to decipher who the child most resembles. If there are other siblings, you compare their features and look for that family resemblance. I see more of a resemblance in my children when I look back at their pictures from years ago. It's amazing how much one can look like the other. One time my brother-in-law was looking at some old pictures and said, "Amanda looks like Zach with hair!" I do see an awful lot of Newsome in Amanda and Zach. Amanda shares a very strong likeness with her Newsome cousin Hope. Monica is more Dodge -- her dark skin and curly hair is distracting to my likeness but if you look beyond those things, you'll see how much of me there is in her. But no matter what the strong resemblance seems to be, I see both sides of the family in each child. I especially like when they make an expression and it eerily looks just like an aunt or cousin of theirs. Genetics amazes me - creation amazes me. The Creator amazes me!

My mother died in 1989 so my children never knew her. It's been so long now and sometimes I'm sad how much my memory of her has slipped my mind. I mean, of course I remember her but sometimes I strain to hear the sound of her voice and I can't hear it, can't remember it. It seems the harder I try, the further the memory gets away from me. Memories mostly sneak up on me -- a scent or a sound will suddenly take me back to a moment in time when I was with my Mom -- sometimes it makes me happy or laugh but mostly, it makes me sad to miss her so much -- to still need her so much. Memories of Mom are private to me and I never really have discovered why. I can only talk to my kids and my sisters about my Mom -- talking about her to anyone else seems so invasive on my personal life. I can't explain it - -I don't know it -- I just feel it.

I don’t often see my Mom in my kids --although every now and then I'll catch a glimpse of Mom in Monica's expression -- but it's really a rare thing. I always look for those things, inherited traits, in their physical features but one day something about my Mom surfaced and completely and totally knocked me off my feet. One day, just an ordinary day doing the things we do -- I was in the kitchen and Monica was sitting at the counter. In the course of the conversation Monica started laughing and at that point, my back was turned to her. At the sound of her laughter, chills ran down my spine, tears welled up in my eyes and I felt like I had frozen in place and if I moved, I would just break into pieces. The most extraordinary sound reached my ears and threw me for a loop -- the sound of Monica's laughter was EXACTLY like my mother's. It wasn't as if I heard something similar to Mom. No, it was as if I was hearing my Mom. It was so real to me I felt if I turned around, there my mother would be but I knew that wasn't possible.

And yet, she was.

Mom is gone but in me and Amanda, Monica, Zachary and all of her descendents, she lives on.

Her smile beams on Courtney's face. Her laughter resonates in Monica's voice. Her compassion lives in Brittany's heart. Her art transforms through Sam's hands. Her music sings in Jeremy's soul. Her beauty radiates on Shelby's face. Her creativity runs through Emily's being. Her faithfulness is grounded in the essence of Amanda . Her tenderness is wrapped around Spencer's heart. Her eyes are seen where Zachary's lay. Her dedication serves at the hands of Val. Her liveliness jumps in the spirit of Sophie.

Her love drives us all.

In the simple ways we live our lives, we capture Mom. Just when a memory seems too faded to recall, it finds its way back to my heart through a smile or laughter or gesture in one of us.

I think Zach summed it up quite nicely one day when he said, "I think of Aubela as being the best of you, Aunt Val and Sassy all rolled into one."

The memory of my Mom is alive in all of us. I can hear her and touch her and see her. Our children know her because they know us. I will never forget her. I will never stop missing her but I will always be with her when I am with one of us.