324 Marbles
I believe there’s hope because the breakdown and the repair are happening simultaneously.
Kathryn Bigelow
After I picked the kids up from school today, the car broke down and so did I. The engine died at a traffic light and I sat there, with the hazard lights on as honking cars streamed past. I didn’t want the kids to get out of the car as we were in the middle lane with cars passing on either side. I felt very vulnerable sitting motionless in the car. Why didn’t I have a shower this morning?
I sat there trying to think who to call and the only person who came to mind was Ex-man. Damn. I hate feeling like a victim. I reluctantly called him and found out he was away in Whistler with a friend. He told me to call BCAA and tell them to tow it to his mechanic then walk to his house and borrow his camper to drive home. Simple. But as I sat and waited in the car, tears streamed down my face.
Kathryn Bigelow
After I picked the kids up from school today, the car broke down and so did I. The engine died at a traffic light and I sat there, with the hazard lights on as honking cars streamed past. I didn’t want the kids to get out of the car as we were in the middle lane with cars passing on either side. I felt very vulnerable sitting motionless in the car. Why didn’t I have a shower this morning?
I sat there trying to think who to call and the only person who came to mind was Ex-man. Damn. I hate feeling like a victim. I reluctantly called him and found out he was away in Whistler with a friend. He told me to call BCAA and tell them to tow it to his mechanic then walk to his house and borrow his camper to drive home. Simple. But as I sat and waited in the car, tears streamed down my face.
“Why are you crying?” my daughter asked. “I don’t know,” I answered, but I did know: I cried because my relationship had broken down; because I didn’t know if I had the strength to push us to safety; because I didn’t want my kids to get hurt; because I didn’t know what it would take to get us back on the road. The breakdown was the perfect metaphor for my breakup.
As we waited, a stranger slowed down and rolled down his window, “It’s going to be okay,” he said, “Do you need any help?” “No,” I sniffled back, “I’ve called for a tow.” At that point I was feeling pretty pathetic that he thought a simple car breakdown could have me so worked up.
Soon another man with a nametag "Ed" from a local hardware store helped me move the van to the side of the road. The kids thought he was Superman – so strong. I thought he was an earthbound angel dressed in a hardware store vest. Sometimes when you’re at a standstill surrounded by whizzing traffic, it’s the little gestures that save you.
After the tow truck arrived, we walked to Ex-man’s house. As we walked, I asked the kids all the things that were great about that experience.
“The man who pushed the car to the side,” said my daughter.
“The tow truck – it was cool,” said my son.
“I’m grateful that we’re walking twenty minutes in sunshine after weeks of having rain. I’m grateful that I had my cell phone to call for help (I almost left it on the counter). I’m grateful that Daddy answered his phone and that we have a camper to drive. I’m grateful for BCAA.” Then remembering the kind man who rolled down his window, “I’m grateful that’s it’s all going to be okay.” The breakup, the breakdown, et al.
As we waited, a stranger slowed down and rolled down his window, “It’s going to be okay,” he said, “Do you need any help?” “No,” I sniffled back, “I’ve called for a tow.” At that point I was feeling pretty pathetic that he thought a simple car breakdown could have me so worked up.
Soon another man with a nametag "Ed" from a local hardware store helped me move the van to the side of the road. The kids thought he was Superman – so strong. I thought he was an earthbound angel dressed in a hardware store vest. Sometimes when you’re at a standstill surrounded by whizzing traffic, it’s the little gestures that save you.
After the tow truck arrived, we walked to Ex-man’s house. As we walked, I asked the kids all the things that were great about that experience.
“The man who pushed the car to the side,” said my daughter.
“The tow truck – it was cool,” said my son.
“I’m grateful that we’re walking twenty minutes in sunshine after weeks of having rain. I’m grateful that I had my cell phone to call for help (I almost left it on the counter). I’m grateful that Daddy answered his phone and that we have a camper to drive. I’m grateful for BCAA.” Then remembering the kind man who rolled down his window, “I’m grateful that’s it’s all going to be okay.” The breakup, the breakdown, et al.
Are there areas of your life that feel like they're breaking down? Cherrie Moraga writes, “Sometimes a breakdown can be the beginning of a kind of breakthrough, a way of living in advance through a trauma that prepares you for a future of radical transformation.” Remain open to transformation...
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