Driving blind

Entering the ice arena this weekend, I had been preparing myself for the busy hockey season.  My warm coat came out of storage.  I layered shirts underneath and remembered some warm socks.  What I hadn't anticipated?  The flood of emotion that hit me upon walking through the doors.  My mind flashed back to June and the month long hockey camp. Camp coincided with the weeks leading up to Dad's passing.  The uncertainty of that time period, the queasy, sickening feeling in my stomach that was my constant companion.  I even remember praying for help in keeping my attention focused. I needed to pay attention while driving with the car load of boys I carted to and from the rink on a daily basis, knowing, most days I felt like I was driving distracted, and blind.

Now as I look back, talk about answered prayers.  I recall how frustrated I was finding out there would be all kinds of  road construction.  I was worried about how quickly I would be able to get to Dad if I needed to.  All, and I mean every, single, route, I normally travel to the rink, was blocked.  I had to use alternates that were congested and tacked on more tedious minutes in the car, weighing me down.  Answered prayers, via road construction that forced me to focus.

This week I am back traveling my familiar routes to the rink.  With my husband moving into his busy season, I am flying solo and hockey rests on my shoulders.  But as my schedule suddenly begins to fill, I notice I am distracted again.  Consumed with the "busy-ness" of the next few months, I am scattered.

Driving the boys to church last night, my mind a million miles away, it was Nolan who literally, brought me back from distraction.  Smile.

Mom, what happens if you don't turn your headlights on while you are driving in the dark?


Well, either you won't be able to see the road or another car won't see you and will flash their lights at you to remind you to turn them on.

Oh.  But what if you are blind and can't see that you don't have your lights on?  


Ummmmm... snicker, chuckle.  Nolan?  Do you really think a blind person should or would be driving?  Uhhh, close your eyes and tell me what you see right now?

Mom, I can't see a thing, but you could TELL me to turn the lights on and I could HEAR you and then I would turn them on.


The sound of my laughter carries me the rest of the way to church, my eyes, my attention, razor sharp once again.