Road Tests and Second Chances

Dad Passes Road Test

I started off the morning with my Dad at the Dillingham DMV, shuffling through paperwork to get him ready for his road test. The last time I had been to a DMV for a road test was when I was 16 years-old. My best friend’s mom (now mother-in-law) was with me on my third attempt at passing the test. She was (and still is) such a sweetheart. Even after failing the test twice, she continued to encourage me, and shared that it took her kids more than one attempt to pass. I’m not even sure if that’s true or not, but it meant everything to have her support and patience. It felt good to have a mother-figure around…

I thought about my own experience as I shuttled by Dad around at the DMV. I anxiously watched my Dad engage with the check-in receptionist and road test examiner. A part of me wanted to talk to the receptionist for him, but I forced myself to take a backseat and let him do it. He gave her the license and registration, insurance card, and confirmation e-mail I had printed out for him. We walked over to an empty bench and I playfully shared my experience in failing the test. I think it was my way of reassuring myself that it would be okay if he didn’t pass for whatever reason. My heart smiled knowing that we were creating another memory together — making up for a missed opportunity.

His name was finally called and I jumped up closely behind him as the examiner ushered him to the parking lot. I could feel the butterflies of excitement building in my gut and smiled proudly as he walked towards the car. Wait, maybe we should have practiced in my car? I watched as he fumbled trying to get the automatic door opener to work — crap, the battery was dead on that device, he would need to manually stick the key into the car door and turn it. My Dad looked over at me, and I signaled to stick the key into the door and turn. I quickly signaled again while the examiner had his back turned to me. He got it. Phew.

He drove off smoothly… good, I thought. I sat alone in a metal patio chair left obscurely by the wall and absorbed the scene in front of me. Teenagers were rushing by with their anxious parents, an elderly woman in a wheelchair was escorted into her car, and a man who appeared to be homeless stopped in front of a garbage ban to look for recyclables. The vision of my Dad on the streets flashed back into my mind, as I watched this man pluck out empty cans. He looked up and smiled at me, I smiled back. He walked away towards a friend before I could stop him to talk. Another time, I thought.

So this is what it’s going to feel like when my boys get older and it’s their turn to take their road test. I started to get lost in my own thoughts and didn’t realize half an hour had passed. I got up to see if they had returned, and the car was parked around the corner. As I walked into the DMV, I saw my Dad talked to another receptionist and quickly made my way over. Did he pass? Please tell me he passed!

He passed.

He was beaming, a full ear-to-ear grin. His smile reminded me of my older son’s smile. I gave him a hug and stood back to let him get his paperwork processed and have his photo taken.

God, thank you. Thank you for this moment, for this second chance.

I am so proud of him and still marvel at how far he has come in such a short amount of time. He is slowly taking steps towards becoming independent again, and I feel so grateful to witness his recovery. Miracles do happen, it happens to normal people like you and I.  It happens in the quiet details of life, like passing a road test, sharing a smile, watching someone stand tall again…

As I finish writing this blog post, my heart and mind is connecting with the hundreds of e-mails and comments I have received from people all over the world. People who share similar stories, understand the struggle, have experienced the pain of not having a healthy family or upbringing, and especially those who lost their parent(s) and were never able to have that “second chance.” I want you to know that I truly appreciate your messages and am sending you hope, love, positive and healing energy. Thank you for being part of this journey, for reaching out, for caring, and for allowing your heart to be touched by mine. It means everything to me.

Hugs,

Diana

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Overwhelmed (in a good way)

Mahalo

I am so overwhelmed by the constant stream of positive and loving e-mails from all over the world. I wish I could respond to each one individually. It means so much to hear from those who have experienced, or are currently experiencing, what we went through the past couple of years.

And at the same, although my story seems to immediately appear as one with a “happy ending,” I do recognize that the road to recovery is ongoing. I keep my fingers crossed that my dad will stay in a “good place.”

I met with my dad earlier today and I asked him about his goals. He is still doing well and following his treatment plan, but I can tell he wants to gain more of his independence again. He wants to work, earn a living, and stand on his own two feet without any government assistance. And I know that he doesn’t want to be in an assisted living environment for the remainder of his life. I want the same for him, yet the memory of him on the streets is still incredibly fresh on my mind — especially with all of the recent news coverage that has been coming out.

We talked a bit more about some short-term goals we could work on. Despite submitting online applications to various part-time jobs, we haven’t heard back from any yet. My dad mentioned his desire to be a taxi-driver again. It made me smile. Several months ago, I wrote about how I’d love to see him smile again… stand tall again, and drive a cab again. It may very well happen… 🙂

I suggested that we go to the DMV tomorrow to setup an appointment for his road test. He has his Driver’s Permit, but has to go through steps to get his license again. I’m really looking forward to it — it’ll be another new experience and memory shared. We’re still taking things day-by-day, and learning what it means to have a relationship and maintain it. It’s sweet and endearing. I’ve learned that we don’t mind sitting quietly together. Sometimes, all we do is eat our food in each other’s presence. We occasionally look up and smile at each other… laugh… and share a few thoughts and then depart with a hug. Other days, he’s in a really talkative mood and asks a lot of questions about my life, work, school. I take it day-by-day and try not to have any expectations. I think that’s what helps to keep us on this path together.

*deep exhale*

All of this is so overwhelming (in a good way). And I continue to be amazed with how small and interconnected my community is. Just the other day, I serendipitously met a woman who turned out to be the owner of the store that my father frequented before he became homeless. She remembered when he was a taxi-driver and witnessed his slow physical and mental deterioration. She also recalled my late-grandmother… It was really hard to share that my grandmother had passed away before my dad got off the streets.

It has truly been a roller-coaster ride and it’s this kind of spontaneous and unexpected occurrence that continues to validate my heart and mind. I am so glad that others have been touched in a positive way, and have reached out to me with their own stories. I spent so much time being afraid and hiding from the reality of my dad’s circumstances… and in my own life… but if you step back and really look at it for what it is, you realize it’s just l-i-f-e and everyone has some painful experience they overcame or are trying to overcome.

We can’t control things even if we want to. People have asked about my thoughts on the homeless “issue,” and I oddly accept that the homeless condition will never completely go away. Life isn’t black and white — there are shades of experiences that people go through. Some will go in and out of homelessness… some will choose to live on the streets, others may be incapacitated and require legal assistance and/or medical interventions to get back on track. But no matter what the circumstances are, the most important thing to remember is that they are people. And people deserve to be treated with respect even if they’ve hurt you. Maybe that’s just my way of breaking negative cycles that have been passed down generation to generation.

This life is happening now. We are here now. And I’m really grateful for the opportunity to share positive energy with my dad today.

We do what we can, with what we have, when we have it. Thank you for sharing this life journey with me… keep smiling, keep loving, keep trying to find it in your heart to forgive, and it’s okay if self-preservation means you have to walk away so somebody else can help. Sending my warmest wishes to all the readers tonight.

Hugs,

Diana