I walked away from driving about two years ago. I’ve never really enjoyed driving. I have always been a nervous driver, afraid that I will zig when a zag is called for. Several near misses during my driving days amplified that fear. I think the problem may have started on a Sunday drive.
At one point or another, every parent hears their child say, “I didn’t meant to” or “I didn’t try to.” Sometimes all that is needed is a nod and a, “I know. It’s okay.” Other times something more is called for. One of my favorite responses was “You didn’t try not to.”
I am not the love of your life.
And neither are you, mine.
Illusion is an outcast we both leave behind.
Now we dare embrace the reality we find.
The chameleon crept to where he resides.
He hides in a crack in the wall,
The place his identity is unalibied
And his true colors are recalled.
Heaven is the place …
Where the harp string never breaks in the middle of the concert;
Where clumsy fingers never strike the wrong chord;
Where we can walk barefoot and our feet never stumble, step on a thorn, or stub a toe;
The old Ford gave one final cough, then shuddered and died.
“Oh that’s just great,” Jerry thought, “Ten miles out in the Arizona desert at 2:00 a.m. Like somebody’s gonna stop out here and lend a hand.
Three quarters of a mile down the road, about 100 yards off to the right side; another traveler had stalled his vehicle, and like Jerry was disembarking to search for help.