Passing a milestone

Saturday was a real milestone for me. For the first time in almost 14 years I was able to do something I thought I’d never be able to do again. Let me explain.

When Marcy died and Lynn, her best friend, had children (naming her daughter Marcy after my Marcy) I was thrilled to become their official Godmother. As her three children grew, I became involved in their lives. Only one problem existed. If we were to go out somewhere, either Lynn or my husband Lawrence had to drive. I couldn’t drive and have the kids in the car. As long as someone else drove, I was comfortable about being in the car with them.

My Marcy was killed by an impaired driver, and in my mind, I could not take the responsibility of having Lynn’s children’s lives on my hands and wonder if another impaired driver could possibly cause an accident hurting my godchildren in any way. I realize this may have been over-reacting on my part, but that’s how I felt, and I had to follow those feelings.

For almost 11 years that is how we have operated. Lynn would bring the kids over to play or sleepover, but we never went anywhere that involved a car unless someone else could drive. This past Saturday Lynn, the kids and myself were going to the movies. Both Lynn and I had to drive to the theater separately because I had to be somewhere else right afterwards. I anticipated little Marcy wanting to drive with me, and I was right. I made a decision that it was time; I would face that demon. Marcy, of course, knew nothing of my fear and we chatted as we drove to the theater.

Was I scared? I was petrified, very nervous and, of course, very careful on a before Christmas crowded freeway with thousands going shopping. I drove slowly; I kept to the right; I looked in the mirror constantly and kept a watchful eye for any eratic drivers on the road. I made it to the theater, met Lynn and her son Jonah a few minutes later and felt really good about what I had accomplished.

No, I will not jump in with both feet, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to take all three children in my car, but as they say, one step at a time… as it was when my Marcy died…one step at a time.