CAR KEYS

It’s not the learning how to drive that terrifies me. Sure there are the inevitable moments of “STOP. RED means stop!” or “you’re a bit close to the curve on my side of the car” and the inevitable parking in two spots. The thing that is the most horrific, terrifying, heart breaking is when your kid drives off alone that first time. Not the short little “yay, you got your licence! Now go get me a gallon of milk from the store two miles from our house where you have driven with me 100 times, but the drive to someplace far away and new. You know, like a thirty minute drive that puts your kid in another part of the city with one way streets or across the bridge. The day my oldest drove off to school with his younger sibling in the car I sobbed. I cried so long and so hard all my husband could do was hold me and laugh. Not at me, but with me. As the other part of my soul. That other part of me that was so happy and proud of my kid. At how brave he was and how confident he was despite not necessarily being the world's best driver. 

My husband held me and videotaped my full breakdown to share with my family chat because all of them are hundreds and thousands of miles away and were missing this momentous occasion. In the video I am sobbing and laughing and hugging and hiding. Simultaneously proud and devastated. It was a blessing to have that moment shared with them. I would never have been able to tell them how my heart was breaking for the loss of that little boy now all grown up and how it was also healing with pride and hope for his continued growth and journey to adulthood. Because that is the thing about being a parent, it’s the thing you can never understand until it happens. You can watch other parents go through these moments ahead of you but until you get there it’s just not the same. You don’t have the capacity to understand how your heart can be breaking and healing like a kintsugi, the Japanese practice of fixing broken poetry with gold, making it stronger and more beautiful until it happens to you. 

For my son's part, he was a little nervous. He did a fine job and everyone got to and from school safely. And we both grew that day. In ways neither of us could have predicted or planned for. He became a bit more independent and I learned that letting go helped us to be closer. The dichotomies of life in one momentous life moment.