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Shortly after my 15th birthday, my mom took me to the DMV in Centerpoint, AL to get my driver’s permit. My dad had me drive the plush-seated ’82 Buick Park Avenue to church on Sundays while he and my mom sat in the backseat.
That car drove a spaceship in a low orbit. My dad called me a chaffeur 😄 It was hilarious and very much inline with the sense of humor that would shape mine.
There were a lot great things about getting to drive as much as I did at 15. One of them was realizing that my dad did actually trust me. He was a serious disciplinarian during most of my childhood following age 9. Before the permit driving experience, I had a lot of doubts about my ability to be a responsible teenager. (Another benefit of driving so much is I became a good driver.)
Driver’s Ed Class 11th Grade
In 11th grade, I took Driver’s Ed. I was 15 or 16 at the time, and I don’t remember if I took the class during first semester of second – that’s only relevant because I turned 16 in December of my 11th grade year.
For Driver’s Ed, Coach Hausenbein has us track our weekly miles driver in steno pads. Because every Sunday, I was driving to Bessemer, AL from New Castle, AL, I was completely crushing my miles – especially after I realized I hadn’t been calculating return trip miles.
I miss the church we used to go to, by the way – Faith Mission #3. There was never more than about 12 people total at service, but I got to play drums and steal glances at Drea. I appreciate attending churches small enough to know everyone’s name, and Faith Mission is likely the reason.
Pivot point in my relationship with my dad
That period was a pivoting point for my relationship with my dad, I think. I got more confident and started to understand his intent better. He wasn’t just tough to be tough; he was fast-tracking me to recognize consequences – and rightly so.
The math was one reason enough: when I moved to Alabama, I was 9 years and 3 months old and one year ahead in school. That means I would hit the adult world at 17 years and 5 months old with an ontime high school graduation.
Steering me from bad paths
My dad seemed to always had living examples to reference when he told me about the consequences of someone who ruined their life or ejected themselves from a good path. Dad was obsessive about me and my siblings being prepared to thrive in adulthood. I use obsessive because adamant doesn’t feel like strong enough a word.
I say those things to say he didn’t have a lot of time to raise me to steer clear of bad paths – not a traditional amount of time, at least. I was literally at home home for 8 years and 4 months, then I vanished into the military.
All that to say the method worked: the point of the exercise was to acknowledge consequences in my decision-making. I do that more often than I don’t. Mission accomplished.
Happy Father’s Day.
Give your parents their roses while they can still smell them.