Dear Lyla,
We all have our good days and our bad days in this life. If you think about it, without the bad days the good ones wouldn’t seem so special. Life is about balance and being able to roll with the punches when life throws you a left hook. Sometimes when life gives you lemons it seems like there isn’t enough sugar on the planet to turn it into lemonade, I had one of those days shortly after I turned 16. I had just passed my driving test and had received my license and the Turtle Fest Days were in full force in a town about 20 minutes from the lake, I wanted to go desperately…I wanted to drive myself! However, grandma Jo and Bumpa had to go to a wedding that weekend and Patti had to work, so she got the car. My sister and I often fought over who got to drive the car, she usually won (she would say it was because she had to work, I say she fought dirty). Luckily for me Patti’s soon to be husband, Chris, was at the house on the day I was begging to take our little hatchback car to hang out with the turtles. Chris saved the day and agreed to chauffeur Patti around so I could have the car. That was the beginning of my troubles. Elated with the thought of being able to go out on my own, I began the day with a sense of purpose. I was convinced the stars and universe had finally aligned for me. I was wrong, the universe can be fickle. That afternoon I was making my lunch and planning my evening activities. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is always a favorite no matter if you are 5 or 50 and that is just what I was making. My mother had this beautiful glass topped stove in her kitchen, it was her pride and joy. Well fate wasn’t kind to her that day either as she had placed a heavy jar of jelly in the cupboard above the stove. To this day I do not know how it happened, although I can still replay the event in slow motion in my mind, but the jar slipped out of my hands on to the stove top. The glass on the stove shattered, the jelly jar made it through unscathed. I knew my mother was going to be incredibly upset. Were I wish that were the end of the day’s fiasco, but alas the stars were aligning to plot against me. Right next to our kitchen was our dining room table set in front of doors that had screens so you could have some fresh air from the canal that we lived on. Our dog, Mutley, who was sitting by the door was startled by the loud crash in the kitchen. Mutley was a sturdy Boston Terrier; so much so that the fine mesh of the screen door barely slowed him as he barreled through it to escape the noise. In the span of two minutes I had ruined mom’s stove and mutilated the screen door on one of the hottest days of the summer. I prayed that mom would be merciful, and as she wasn’t due home until the next day, I had time to get my story down. That evening I primped and preened and finally climbed into the Phoenix compact headed for town. It turns out the the idea of attending the Turtle Fest as a newly minted driver is much more appealing than the reality of attending the festivities. I did not stay very long, it was still light out and so my two friends and I hopped in the car to drive back to the lake. On the way home I slowed down to take the exit ramp on my right, I must have slowed down too much too soon because I was rear ended by a truck. Everyone made it through without a scratch, the car wasn’t so lucky. My parents weren’t home and my sister was working (this is before everyone had cell phones) and so a family friend left work to pick us up. I spent the rest of the night crying and worrying about telling my parents. My sister was mad because I had wrecked the car and Chris came to the rescue again by agreeing to make sure that Patti got to work the next day as well. I do not remember what I did that night, all I know is that I did not sleep, not at all. The next morning Patti must have been worried about me because she forgot about being mad and walked me over to a neighbor’s house so I wouldn’t have to be alone until my parents got home. When they did the neighbor went to tell my parents what happened. My mom and dad both came over to get me, I was so afraid of what they were going to say. I think dad said something to the effect of “well if you are going to mess up you may as well do it right” and mom said “the most important thing is that you are safe.” Each in their own way I understood I was loved and forgiven. Dad’s dry humor was a signal that he was worried and was glad I was not hurt. Mom was much more direct in her attempt to soothe my fears, but each said what I needed to hear. The car was totaled the glass on the stove replaced and the screen repaired; but the point little one is that you cannot replace the people that you love in your life so you must treasure them while you can. To put your faith and love in material things is a hollow existence indeed. As my parents pledged to me I will do the same for you; I promise to love you, protect you, teach you and treasure you as long as we are together on this earth.
Letters To Lyla 