Hi Everyone,
I recently got my driver’s license. But, in typical Brenneman style, there’s a story attached to it.
Driving up to Yorktown to take the test, I was very nervous and wasn’t expecting much. Just one week earlier, I got so frustrated I couldn’t parallel park that I considered giving up on driving. However, after some self-motivation and a pep talk from my mom, I was ready.
Until I saw her.
“Fail Gail” – a notorious examiner known for failing almost every kid – walked up to the car. Almost instantly, I started sweating and panicking. I knew then and there it was over for me. When the test first started and I had to pull away from the curb, I stepped on the gas a little too hard and we jolted forward. My mom, a helpless spectator at that point, knew that I was finished. And then I had to make a right turn, but the light turned yellow. Instinctively, I pressed on the brakes. However, Fail Gail said it was ok to make the turn. The light turned red a second before I turned, and it was a “no turn on red.” An automatic fail.
So I thought Fail Gail would declare the test finished. But then she asked me to parallel park, and all of a sudden my inner Lewis Hamilton emerged. I had only ever parallel parked perfectly once before. Even then, I couldn’t ever get it consistently good. So when I realized I had maneuvered my way perfectly between two cars, I was shocked. My jaw genuinely dropped to the floor mat. After taking a quick second to appreciate the brilliant parking, I completed the test. I thought I failed and there was no chance. As soon as I got home, I immediately scheduled another test.
After waiting a little, I checked my phone, and there was… a green light. Pass. I survived Fail Gail.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case for my dad. Below is an essay he wrote about his first driving test.
Clearly, it’s a family thing to have an experience on our first driving test, and I was fully planning to bring out that essay to all my friends if Fail Gail lived up to her reputation with me.
You might be wondering why I’m talking about driving in this post. The answer is very simple; one of my fondest memories of my dad takes place in the car. He had an Infinity sedan, which I thought was a spaceship. Its modern and sleek design with the black interior and blue LED lights were futuristic. It was a really cool car. When dad offered to go for a drive to the library one night, I happily accepted. The fun and (little bit) reckless man he was, let me go in the backseat without a booster. Clearly, we didn’t tell mom. In fact, she just found out when I started talking about this post. Oops. Also a family dynamic. I don't exactly remember any conversation we might’ve had, but the swaying motion from that drive has forever been imprinted upon me.
While getting my license has been a happy and proud moment, I can't help but acknowledge how this is a big step in growing up without dad. Sometimes it feels that his memory is becoming more distant and it’s a scary feeling. However, remembering that car ride and seeing how we had a similar experience on our road test, I still feel close to dad. Also, through looks (tall, wiry, curly hair), behaviors (studying habits, strategic thinking, methodical preparation), and other attributes (supporting the same soccer and basketball teams, ambidexterity), I know deep down we’re connected and that I’m truly David’s son.
Until next Sunday!
P.S. The GoFundMe is now over $7,000! Thank you so much for your incredible support. Please spread the word about the fundraiser and the blog.
コメント