Turn

Photo by Tomas Martinez on Unsplash

My middle child is a newly licensed driver. His hand-me-down car needed a state inspection. I followed him in case they were busy. We’d much rather wait at home instead of there.

We took the highway to the shop and were caught by a red light. He was the first car in the middle lane. I was right behind him.

The light turned green. The truck in the right lane took off pretty quickly, then all three lanes stopped even quicker. A car from the opposite direction turned left late through their red light.

It was really close. I yelled, “Whoa,” to no one in my car. I was grateful he rolled slowly off that light. My heart raced. The front row let the turning truck pass through. Then we all started to go again.

That’s when a second car came plowing through the same turn. I assume the driver was distracted. Maybe in their peripheral, they noticed the truck turn. They did not notice their red light or the near-miss the truck caused. I have no concept of the actual amount of time that passed, but they were several beats behind. The truck had fully turned, and all three lanes on my side started to go ahead. The car in the lane to the left of us and my son slammed on their brakes. The truck in the right lane had mostly cleared the intersection. This late second driver had to weave between the three cars.

At that point, I felt everything. Every emotion passed through all at once. I was pissed at both dangerous drivers. I was terrified for what my child was feeling. I was grateful no cars hit. I was disgusted by what could have been. I was mad at the first driver—livid with the second. I was trying so hard to give them a pass. Distracted. Maybe they had a blinking yellow light. It was a paper-thin attempt to practice what I preach. I wanted to follow them. Give them both an earful. Call their parents and make them feel everything I was feeling. Do you know what your child almost did to mine?!?

Even as I write, my hands are trembling. I picture what could have been. I picture how close it was to something worse. I was absolutely helpless.

I taught my kids how to drive and I dwelled a lot on the many scenarios. Don’t assume others will obey the law. Don’t assume others will be paying attention. Try to be overt in your actions so people can respond appropriately.

I don’t think lecturing works. I never know which things stick and which ones evaporate the moment I stop talking. Maybe I planted a seed that kept him out of a mess that day. Maybe he remembered nothing, and we got lucky. Either way, I am certain there was nothing I could do in that moment. Not anymore. My opportunity to have any influence came long before that light turned green. Long before that truck turned… and definitely before the next car turned.

I sometimes have things to share, and I put them off. I save them for another day, a better time. I am glad I didn’t wait to share that lesson, “Do not assume a green light means safe to go.” The most important things I have to say have a shelf life I can’t always see.

Who might be approaching an intersection I’ve passed through? Have I planted all the seeds I can? When my influence ends, will I have used it?

Be curious, be kind, be whole, do good things.