Time will tell you two - Part two
Back to work
Driving me crazy
Part two (Begin with part one, here.)
It’s been nearly a month, and we are continuing to carpool as I promised the wife I would. We have begun to drive separately on Tuesdays as I need to attend a meeting on those evenings, but for the most part, we are commuting together. We have been getting along, and we have begun to settle into a routine. We get in the car, I make some small talk, and we head down the road. We go to work, get off work, come home, and she heads off to her boyfriend’s house.
I don’t much like her boyfriend, and I have made this clear on many occasions. What father does like his daughter’s boyfriend, I mean really? I am no different from any other warm-blooded American dad! The boy simply does not deserve to date my daughter! I ask you; “Is there anything wrong with that?” My daughter seems to think so, and she makes it clear to me that during our commute that she really likes him. She then proceeds to let me know her intent on dating him through college. I don’t really like that idea at all. She has dated him throughout high school and missed a lot of opportunities to explore and do other things that we (her mother and I) never got to do at her age. We were too busy having to work jobs in the evening or busy taking care of siblings to do much of anything else. I wanted our daughter to experience life more before getting attached to someone. As her father, I can’t say much about it without her getting angry or defensive, so I try to not bring it up as much as possible. It’s just another thing we can’t, or shouldn’t talk about it.
Insanity takes its turn at the wheel
We take turns in our commute. I like to drive in the mornings and she likes to drive in the evenings. We are both nighttime people, and mornings do not suit either of us, and it shows. She drives home from work mostly, and I like that she does, as it gives me time to think about my day and the work ahead tomorrow. We take the toll roads and it’s usually an uneventful trip. Traffic. Stop. Go. Wait. Go real fast and stop again. Over the last month, we have talked a few times at length, and other times we have remained entirely silent. It’s the most we have ever spent together since she was young, and I am grateful for the opportunity to get to know my daughter in a way that I haven’t been able to in the last few years. Her mother is close to her; they talk about a lot of things that I may never get to, but today, we are getting closer, and I like that. I love that we have been more social, and I am enjoying that we have remained civil with the arguments being kept to a minimum. I am grateful for that last part more than I can express.
One evening driving home, I was talking to her about my writing, and though she expressed no interest in reading it, I asked her if she wanted me to read to her. She said, “Sure!” to my surprise, so I pull out some of my papers, and I start to read. I think she is surprised at the thoughts. The personal nature of the writing and she seemed really surprised that I write at all. This is not the same voice I use in my daily life, and I think it shocks her a little to hear her father being thoughtful or considerate. The writing is much more reflective than the words that usually come out of my mouth on a daily basis or when I am complaining or cussing about her not picking up the dog poop or something similar at home. When I am done reading, she doesn’t say much, but I can tell that she has now seen a different side of me. I am glad I shared my writing with her. It was nice, and we need some things to be nice once in a while. I am so happy we are sharing this time a little differently as well. Hopefully, it can continue to be like this for the rest of the summer.
On the way home one evening, we are driving down the toll road where the cars usually build up in a long line that goes all the way back up and over the hill. It’s the most deflating experience after a long day to make it around the corner and run smack dab into a wall of cars inching their way that then merges into another wall of cars three miles down the road. Most commuter’s faces have a despondent faraway look by the time they get to this point. But not us! We have a different approach…
It’s our turn
My daughter and I have a similar understanding about traffic. We both hate it. It’s the one thing about our daily commute that we can both commiserate on, and we certainly do. There is nothing that brings us closer than I common enemy, and so far, traffic has become our nemesis. We even tend to agree about the amount of “cheating” we can do each week and what is acceptable when it comes to “bypassing” traffic and this long line of commuters along the hill.
Once a week, or more depending on the day and amount of traffic, my daughter and I make our way to the open, free-flowing, far left lane and proceed to bypass the three miles of traffic. We then continue to “take cuts” back into the long line of traffic before it merges into the next freeway. This is severely frowned upon by most drivers in these long lines, and it can result in some angry exchanges. After we inch our way into traffic, my daughter attempts another lane change to escape others who are trying to do the same. She signals the lane change and there is some space to do this, but it’s soon filled from a truck who seemingly does not want anyone to fill it. My daughter exclaims; “Asshole!” and I jump in to say the same as I turn to make eye contact with this “asshole”. It’s as though I am defending my daughter’s honor, and I turn my head with a fatherly glare of protection that casts a beam of my death-ray vision. I am confident he can feel it piercing his medulla oblongata. He looks back and says something I can’t make out (I’m such a bad lip reader), but I assume it includes a few cuss words. I roll down the window and proceed to hang out the window and yell something I am sure my mother would slap me for. The guy in the truck finally lets us in and we have won this exchange! A triumphant-road-raging father-daughter team! It’s silly, but we can be just the worst to each other until we have a mutual enemy.
“They say that “absence makes the heart grow fonder” and I know it does. I have watched the life that my wife and I planted grow up around us for years. While my wife tended to that life, I held it at an arm’s distance, all the while I was bending my elbow with a drink at every possible occasion.”
Matchbox Jeep
My stepson had been gifted a battery-powered Jeep when he was younger, and he never drives it. He never seemed to enjoy it from the day he got it. I think I enjoy it more than he sometimes does. It has sat in the garage, and occasionally my two-year-old daughter likes me to drive her around in it. I am not a very big guy, so I can sit on the back of it and drive it around the street, and I think the other dads on the street are just a bit jealous that I can do this. As my daughter gets a few years older, she starts to learn how to touch the pedal on her own, and she learns how to steer. She doesn’t drive well, but she can steer enough to turn in circles. She loves the Matchbox Jeep, and it is something we often do. I even took the regulator off so she can go much faster. Makes for a much more exciting ride for her and me!
She wants to go down the street. She always wants to go all the way down the hill. All the time! She never seems to be happy to stay in front of our home. She always wants to “explore”. We will circle our street a few times, and then she gets bored and eventually points toward the street that goes down the hill in our neighborhood. I know that if that Matchbox Jeep runs out of its battery charge that I will be carrying it up that hill. When she asks, I hesitate and say, “No, I don’t think so.” until finally, one day, I agree, and we eventually make it down the hill, but just to the bottom and back up.
There is a gate at the bottom of the hill that is rarely open, it’s for grounds crews in our community, and it’s usually locked. My daughter always looks through the gate like there is more there to be found. There must be a “fairy-kingdom” out there somewhere! I can see it in her face; she believes this world has magic! It must look so exciting to her. So many adventures are made to be taken through such gates! Beyond the gate is a trail, and for her, it must lead to “a land of treasure and riches!”
Today, we are making our way to the bottom of the hill, and the gate is open. She wants to go so bad, and I am inclined to say “No.” because I might have to carry that dang toy Jeep all the way back home, but she really wants to go, and I oblige. She loves it! The dirt road, the bumps and jittering, and the fact that she keeps trying to run me over along the way makes her so happy. The sun is shining, the temperature is just right, and we are exploring new lands down the hill. I can’t be any happier myself. Only the two of us making our way down a dirt road. Such simple happiness for both of us. I tell her we can’t go any further, and she gets visibly sad. I certainly understand the feeling, but I really don’t want to get stuck carrying that thing up the hill. We make it all the way around to the edge of our community, and she sees a familiar place, the park. We make our way there, and she begins to play on the structures. She couldn’t be happier as we finish up, and she gets back into the Jeep.
What Goes Down Must Come up
Leaving the park, we make it halfway up the hill before the battery runs out. In the back of my mind, the entire time was a nagging voice saying, “The battery is going to go out, and you are going to have to carry this thing all the way home! Turn back now before it’s too late!” And then when the battery did run out, that voice returned to say, “I told you so.” I did not regret carrying the Jeep back up the hill. Not once. I did not regret the smile on my daughter’s face, the happiness in her voice, or the skip in her step as she got out, and I grabbed and lifted the back of that Jeep as if I was some well-worn tow truck driver on his last haul for the night. All in a day’s work, ma’am!
