The Bridge Fairy

Hi guys! Everyone is looking fine in their HOFF-ness.

I taught myself to drive a stick. When leaving church one Sunday, my brother wanted to take me out and show me. I know my brother well. In front of everyone so he could laugh? I refused.

At school the next day, I asked my cousin and his friends what and how. And then I waited. One night when no one was home, I took the car and went around and around the block. After 8-12 trips around, I was just about a pro.

The next day at school I had to get some more advice from my cousin because the car hiccupped just a bit I let the clutch out. I was “popping” the clutch he said. Let it out slower – feel it catch – then gradually let it go.

I went out another night around and around the block again. I still had to practice getting started on hills for another month or so. (It helps if you use the parking brake.) But unless on an incline, by the end of the second night, I shifted gears as smooth as silk.

The next Sunday came and brother put me in the drivers seat. I put on a great show: I protested and whined—it was the worst thing ever. Were my parents (in the station wagon with the other kids) going to let him humilate me like this? And they drove off. If I wanted a ride home I had to drive. SO I put the car in gear and drove out of the church yard gracefully. For the first and only time in our entire lives my brother was hacked. “Somebody’s been teaching you.” I still don’t know if he believes I taught myself.

I did kill the engine once on the way home – he got in laugh – but just a small one. (1) One. ;-)

For several years I have almost dreaded the party that would be throwed. Now it seems it will be very quiet.

My dad died March 18 – actually he stopped breathing a few minutes before midnight on March 17 – St. Patricks Day. We have named March 18th, St. Calvin’s Day. I spent three weeks at home holding his hand most of the time before.

I am in a tender place. I was worried I wouldn’t have the energy for the birthday hoopla – or would spend the night sobbing at every kind thing someone did or said. I am in better shape than that now – but I didn’t know a month or so ago – so I asked the friends, no party.

Besides the blubbery-er-ness, I really want to turn old by myself this time. I want to savor it like a good glass of wine – with my favorite reading glasses, a good book and my dog at my feet. I have become something of a marshmallow in my dotage and I rightly don’t care.

I laugh. A few months ago I signed up for Myspace so I could leave and get messages from my nieces and nephews. I got three love letters from guys the last time I checked. One doctor, one achitech, and a general contractor – but I think he was trying to drum up some carpentry work. (I always hire my carpenters from social networking sites.) So this marshmallow still does something for someone – abeit prompting near anonymous love letters from unknown souls on Myspace. :-)

This birthday and year are going to be fun. I am not expecting too much of my self these days. I have turned off the hyperthrust afterburners. I am paying attention more. I am savoring life.

If there is anything good I learned from my dad’s last days it was, time is too short. I need to pay attention and enjoy life as it comes. Savor it.

Ok thanks for listening. Happy birthday me. woo. hoo.

b.