My December to Remember: Day Twenty-Nine
News: Former President Jimmy Carter dead at 100.
179 killed, 2 survive in South Korean plane crash.
I made a mistake driving today with my boyfriend in the car. “Watch, watch, watch!” he warned me as I tried merging into the right lane on the approach to the Lincoln Tunnel, noticing the big mound of asphalt before me, but thinking he was talking about a car behind me. So I panicked and clipped the mound with my left driver’s side tire. It jostled the Prius I rented from Zipcar, causing my boyfriend to hit his head on the ceiling. The car was not my first choice, but it was given to us anyway because the one I originally reserved was unavailable. It was the same car we had two weeks ago, which we hated then, but this time it came with two brand new stains on both the driver and passenger seats. And now, I had just knocked everything askew by my poor driving, and we hadn’t even left the city yet.
I apologized profusely after realizing what he was warning me about. I couldn’t articulate that I thought he was referring to the car I was hoping I wasn’t cutting off with the merge lane, and I was so rattled that I missed a shorter turn toward the tunnel. He told me it was fine, but I needed to be far more careful when it comes to what’s ahead of me. “If we were in my car, I’d tell you to give me the keys right now. If this was Dad’s Beemer, it would have bottomed out.” I already felt bad, but these points were really driving home how disappointed he was in me. And to think about all the times he told people I’m a good driver.
“Okay, I get it,” I said, giving him a side look and slightly pouting my lip. I really did get it and I really wanted him to not be mad at me about it. I knew he wasn’t, but he does have a tendency to break my bawls over certain things. Only this time, I think he got something too. Because after a beat of silence, he smoothed back my hair and rubbed my head, signaling to me that he really was done talking about it. He knew I knew it was just about our safety while in the car, and he didn’t bring up my driving for the rest of the day. Even after the moment I got some agita driving on a bridge on Route 78, because the overwhelming fog and no sign of the earth made me feel like I was cruising through Silent Hill.
I really don’t mean to drive him crazy. I kept saying how I wished I could just get things right the first time and to be absolutely perfect for him. But I suppose this is just another line of thinking that needs to be stopped on my part, so there’s a chance for smoother rides ahead. I’m only causing myself more strife and punishing myself for something that can’t always be helped, no matter how good a driver one may be. Sometimes those instincts simply cease to exist and you’ve got to scramble to find an alternate route.
A lot more things are going to suddenly stop soon. The news breaks and that’s the end of it. All we can do after that is put the pedal to the metal and keep on cruising forward. Because all of life, really, is on its own finite timetable, and we can’t always take into account the unforeseen obstacles in our way. We can only pack up the lessons we learn and hope we reach our final destinations as safely as possible. With less jostling and a bigger car next time.
