We are teaching our youngest son to drive. After so many children, so many years, we’ve come to this. It’s an interesting thing to put your life and faith in a being you raised. It’s an interesting right of passage to give a young person what seems like the keys to their future.
In a way, getting one’s drivers license is almost bigger than high school graduation. It’s certainly a step with more extreme consequences if you screw it up. Thus far, 4 beings have passed through the halls of my home and on their way out into the world. The fifth isn’t far behind. It’s an odd place to be in life.
But it’s the way of my people to embrace the peculiar. We seem to be suited to transitions and adaptations. My grandmother always told me Friday the 13th was lucky for our family. I don’t know if she said it to dispel fear and superstition or if she believed it to be true. Likewise, I don’t know if I believe what she said or simply like the idea that we are different, that my family is immune to things that may confound others.
Perhaps one is the chicken and the other is the egg. Who knows which comes first?
As Chase bravely takes the wheel of the car, metaphorically taking the next step to being an autonomous being in the world, I can’t help but believe that he too is impervious to some of the normal difficulties.
I wished to raise children in the perfect home under the perfect circumstances and what I got in return was life with challenges, and children forced to adapt to them. Which they did. They adapted and it is that adaptation that makes us immune, brings us strength and prepares us for the wild ride that is life.
It’s good for my heart to go on this journey with him. With each of my children there was certainly a bit of fear as I watched them drive away. But I cannot deny the thrill of having raised confident people and releasing them into the wilds of the world.
It doesn’t really matter what day of the month or the week. Friday the thirteenth, Sunday the 11th. Whichever. We’re adaptable. We humans are survivors.