When you hear the word "embarrassed" everyone has some moment that pops into their mind. For me, I think of being trapped in a Walmart bathroom. Now, keep in mind that I was only five, the bathroom was a one-stall bathroom with a bolt lock, and about thirty people were extremely concerned to hear a little girl was trapped in a bathroom. I didn't want to go to the bathroom alone for the next three years. But that was nothing compared to my teenage years. My mother worked a factory job and didn't get off work until around 4 pm. I had a choice to ride a bus on a route that involved a long dirt road for about an hour or wait for my mom to get off work and pick me up. I chose being picked up. My parents didn't have a lot of money, and my dad commuted about an hour each day one way to get to work. This left my parents buying an old car for her to use. I remember that I could see the car coming in the distance. Smoke would rise in the air greater than a sunrise on the Smoky Mountains. Then the sounds. I still cringe just thinking about it. A loud backfire would trumpet in her arrival. My vulnerable teenage ego would quiver in humiliation. How could my mother subject me to such horrors? This leads me to my current topic. I have been privileged to drive a car that is completely paid off. This makes me better off than a little over 83 percent of the world that does not own a car. You would think my teenagers would see the magnitude of these statistics and be grateful, right? But statistics do not always open teenagers' eyes, so let me fill in the picture a little more. This car is a minivan. My kids do not like a minivan. I'm not sure why they think I would purposely buy a minivan if not for them, but I digress. This minivan is completely paid off- to put it bluntly, it is old!!! I would like to think of it as filled with memories. When I look at the crayon drawing on the ceiling, I think of my cute little toddler twins scribbling all over my new van's roof. When I see the silly putty ground into the carpet, I think of my four year old boy dropping it after I told him not to open it. When I see the ground-in dirt that no vacuum can remove, I picture years of soccer practice, baseball practice, trips to the park, and years of parenting. My kids see a car that is beat-up, worn out, and squealing louder than a poked pig at a county fair. My son informed me that he could hear me coming a block away when I was picking him up from school. So as I watched my daughter scoot down in the seat as we drove by fellow students sitting outside the school, did I show sympathy and remember my teen humiliation? No! I proudly pulled up with my music blaring, car squealing, and hand waiving. It's not like I went to a car lot and asked them to sale me the loudest car that would bring the most embarrassment to my children. So as a parent, I see the situation from new eyes. I see a parent who is dedicated to supporting her kids the best way she can. I see my mother exhausted from hard manual labor in a factory all day taking time to pick up her child because her daughter didn't like riding the bus. I see her driving a car that probably embarrassed her more, knowing it was the best she could afford. I see her giving the best she had in order to offer a better life for her child. I'm watching my children grow up. Sometimes slower than I would like, but other times way too fast. I know that one day they will see the big picture. Parenting isn't easy. It is about sacrificing that new, fancy car for basketball shoes for your child, braces, or camp. It is about building a better world for your children. It is about showing them support and unconditional love that they may not recognize yet, but will one day live by. Have a great week high-heeled warriors!
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