Driving Lesson

When I was seventeen, my Grandma Laura, my older sister, and I drove Grandma’s car across the country from Utah to Virginia to attend my cousin’s wedding. I was a newly licensed driver, and strongly preferred not to drive. I'd learned to drive our little Volkswagen Rabbit, not Grandma’s wide tan sedan. Somehow, I managed to avoid taking a turn behind the wheel until we were leaving Iowa, heading east. We’d soon be crossing a bridge over the Mississippi into Illinois.

I was looking forward to seeing the river again. I didn’t realize I wouldn’t see much of it. At first, everything seemed okay as we approached the long, one-way entrance to the bridge. Unfortunately, none of us knew we would soon be in a heavy construction zone until we were almost there.

All of a sudden, there were orange barrels, cones, barriers, flashing lights, trucks, and workers wearing hardhats everywhere. The construction took up half the bridge. I panicked. This wouldn’t be easy driving. At this point, there was nowhere to turn around or to pull over and switch drivers.

On the bridge, cars moved both ways, fast, with only one lane going each direction. The river was to my right. Vehicles barreled toward me on my left. I felt like I was driving down a tight corridor of certain death. As I gripped the steering wheel, and Grandma held onto her seat, I was very afraid of crashing into oncoming cars.

“Every car looks like it’s coming straight at me!” I said in a panic.

“Don’t look at the cars! If you look them in the face you will crash!” yelled Grandma.

“Where am I supposed to look?” I asked. “I have to see where I’m going!”

Grandma said, “Look at the white line by the side of the road. Follow it closely. Then you won’t crash into the cars because you’ll stay on your side of the road.”

I did what she said. I looked ahead, but focused on the white line on the side of the road. Thankfully, I stopped thinking about oncoming cars. We made it safely across the bridge.

Once we’d crossed, I was still pretty shaken up. I found a place to pull over so Grandma could drive. I didn’t want to drive again until we were on our way home, somewhere between Nebraska and Kansas, on a straight, flat, empty highway.

Grandma’s words became more than a driving lesson. In life, I have been in scary situations where I haven’t always known with certainty I’d escape destruction. I’ve learned when I focus on potential problems, it’s like looking at oncoming cars in the face. The possibility of impact and pain can be terrifying. Instead, if I focus on the road ahead, while following guidelines, I have less fear. I’m more likely to arrive safely where I want to go.