I was 20 years old when I bought my first car. I had only had my license for a few months and I would have happily borrowed one of my parents vehicles forever, had my parents agreed to it.
But my boss kept telling me if I wanted to move up on the corporate ladder I needed to ditch the bus pass and get some wheels and my boyfriend kept telling me he was poor and couldn't afford to drive in from the countryside every night to come and see me.
It was time for me to embrace my independence. My job and my love life depended on it.
The search for car to call my own had begun.
I remember I found more than a few lemons along the way. I also remember being propositioned, belittled and just once, proposed to by a pathetic balding forty-ish man who lived at home with his mother.
That was the last time I looked at the classified ads for used cars.
Then, one afternoon, my dad took me to a used car dealership. We looked at one shiny car after another; I'd stroke the dashboard and remark how pretty it looked, as he'd pop the hood and ask about engine combustion and such. He helped me pick out a vehicle and take it for a test drive and when the car passed his inspection and held up my standards for looking pretty, he held my hand as I signed my very first car loan agreement.
I wasn't just signing my life away to a dealership for eight grand; I was signing the papers of my independence.
He handed me my very first set of car keys and stood silent as he watched me drive away, all tail lights and freedom and he's been watching me drive away ever since.
Daddies and daughters.
Today, Ken gets her very first set of wheels to call her own.
Today, Bruce is holding his daughter's hand as she insures and registers her very first car and once again, life has gone full circle.
Today, Bruce will hand Ken her very first set of car keys and he'll watch her taillights disappear down our lane, as she drives towards the freedom just waiting for her.
And just like my dad, he'll never stop watching for those taillights, even as she keeps driving away.
Daddies and daughters.
Me? I'm just going to sit here and quietly clutch my kleenex and marvel at how quickly it all goes.
And then I'm going to call my dad.
It's been a good week. Even if the week included dentists, broken hearing aides and thousand dollar car seats for Knox.
Thank god for boxed macaroni and cheese. Because that's about all I can now afford.
37 and still with the zit paste. I blame this on my children. Their puberty is rubbing off on me.
Knox wasn't the only one with dental woes this week.
Guess who sat up ON HIS OWN and discovered he has a bedroom window with a view?
Happiness in a hospital. It is possible.
Have a great weekend. May there be many squeals of delight for each of you.