I'm sitting in a straight-backed chair...waiting. I'm nervous. How long have they been gone? I keep looking out the glass door. Please, please, please let her pass the first time.
Hillary has been driving us around as often as we'll let her, since she got her permit several months ago. She's come a long way. She no longer swipes mailboxes with the edge of the mirror or makes turns as wide as a semi. She's studied her book and knows which way to turn the wheels when you're parked on a hill. I've quizzed her on the location of the blinker, emergency break, hazard lights, and defroster. And before we got to the liscense bureau, we found some parked cars for her to practice parallel parking between. A couple of times talking her through it and she was parallel parking like a pro. Still, she was nervous. She kept saying, "I'll never live it down if I don't pass the first time." We got to the right place, signed her in, and sat down to wait. Soon they called her name, I handed her the keys, and she left with a stranger and my car. I tried to act cool, but I was secretly watching every move in the reflection of the glass door that was propped open. She turned the blinkers off and on, stepped on the brake, and honked the horn. Check, check, check went the lady in uniform. Then they s-l-o-w-ly pulled away.
It's been hours, I'm sure. Or only 15 minutes. Then they're back and Hillary is walking across the parking lot toward the door. I can't read her face. At least she's not crying...but she's not really smiling either. They walk in the door. "How'd you do?" I ask. "Eighty" she says...letting it out in a puff of breath she's been holding. And I breathe again too. "That's good!" I say. That's passing. That's better than her friend who just got her liscense with a 73%. I want to stand up and cheer. But, of course, I don't.
Later, I'm riding in the back seat, while Hillary drives and her friend sits in the passenger seat. They're laughing and talking and listening to music. And I feel the earth shift...just a little. I catch a glimpse of my grown-up daughter, the beautiful, independent woman she'll be. And I'm proud.
Hillary has been driving us around as often as we'll let her, since she got her permit several months ago. She's come a long way. She no longer swipes mailboxes with the edge of the mirror or makes turns as wide as a semi. She's studied her book and knows which way to turn the wheels when you're parked on a hill. I've quizzed her on the location of the blinker, emergency break, hazard lights, and defroster. And before we got to the liscense bureau, we found some parked cars for her to practice parallel parking between. A couple of times talking her through it and she was parallel parking like a pro. Still, she was nervous. She kept saying, "I'll never live it down if I don't pass the first time." We got to the right place, signed her in, and sat down to wait. Soon they called her name, I handed her the keys, and she left with a stranger and my car. I tried to act cool, but I was secretly watching every move in the reflection of the glass door that was propped open. She turned the blinkers off and on, stepped on the brake, and honked the horn. Check, check, check went the lady in uniform. Then they s-l-o-w-ly pulled away.
It's been hours, I'm sure. Or only 15 minutes. Then they're back and Hillary is walking across the parking lot toward the door. I can't read her face. At least she's not crying...but she's not really smiling either. They walk in the door. "How'd you do?" I ask. "Eighty" she says...letting it out in a puff of breath she's been holding. And I breathe again too. "That's good!" I say. That's passing. That's better than her friend who just got her liscense with a 73%. I want to stand up and cheer. But, of course, I don't.
Later, I'm riding in the back seat, while Hillary drives and her friend sits in the passenger seat. They're laughing and talking and listening to music. And I feel the earth shift...just a little. I catch a glimpse of my grown-up daughter, the beautiful, independent woman she'll be. And I'm proud.
3 comments:
I don't know if it's my cold, PMS, or what, but I am a little emotional for you right now. I get a little teary thinking about the big K for Lexi next year. Driving, that's HUGE!! But, like I said last night, now she can drive herself home from babysitting, yea for us!:-)
Where has the last 16 years gone-
I can not read these at work, way to many emotions flying around in my body.
My favorite part of the day is reading what is new with my favorite people.
There will be lots of prayers for saftey for our "Princess"
Keep the articles flowing
Love Ya-Sheila
This is a big moment! Just give her wings. Someday she will fly! sandy
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