In celebration of a milestone birthday this week, I’ve spent a little time reflecting on the experiences I’ve had throughout my life.  What stands out most in my mind is how much I’ve evolved from the incredibly shy little girl who began this journey.  This became more apparent following a recent experience on the road.

My 91-year-old father has dementia. Although he thinks he never has visitors, my siblings and I take turns visiting him every weekend.  

A couple weekends ago was my turn. You never know what to expect although you can bet he will fixate on several topics and repeat them numerous times.  

I had just left him at his assisted living residence and was driving home. I called my husband to let him know I was en route and to share some of the highlights of my visit.  

As I approached a construction zone on the interstate, I began to slow toward the 55 mph speed limit.  Almost immediately I noticed flashing red and blue lights in my rear-view mirror—a state trooper. (Gulp!) My heart rate accelerated at the same time my car decelerated. 

Who was he pulling over? Me??? It was me!!!  I didn’t think I was speeding.  What could I have done? As I eased onto the shoulder, I explained to my husband and hung up the phone—all hands-free, of course!

Hello, officer

Before the officer exited his patrol car, I retrieved my proof of insurance card and the registration from the glovebox.  

A young patrolman—I could have been his grandmother—approached on the passenger side.  I lowered the window and was happy to note his friendly, pleasant demeanor.  He asked for my license and the other documents.   

As I handed them to him, he asked, “So, where are you headed?”

“I’m going home,” I told him, “from visiting my dad.”

He told me he saw me make a couple lane shifts without signaling. (Or, did he say “several?” I don’t remember now, but I hope it wasn’t more than a couple!  I really hope I wasn’t driving that mindlessly!)

I refrained from confessing I’d been on the phone with my husband sharing some of the details of my weekend with Dad. Instead, I apologized and told him I was probably distracted because I’d been thinking of my dad and his issues with dementia. 

“Oh, like father like daughter!” he retorted.

“I hope not!!!” I shot back, wide-eyed and surprised by his sense of humor.

Surprise bravery

He took my license and returned to his car.  Meanwhile, I sat watching the traffic flow by me, grateful for the construction zone’s slower speed limit which I hoped would keep us all a little safer.  

I am not in the habit of being pulled over by the police, and I was surprised at how calm I remained. Perhaps it was the officer’s friendly manner, or maybe it’s that I realized I would probably end up with a ticket and a fine.  My driving record is good, and I can afford to pay a ticket. So, in the scheme of things, it didn’t seem worthy of unnecessary worrying.  

I don’t know where my next thought came from, but while the officer was still in his car, I decided that, ticket or no ticket, I wanted to tell him about my blog! 

I dug out a business card.

Wait just a minute

When he returned and handed me my license and a piece of paper, he told me he had to give me three tickets. WHAT!!! I could handle one but not three!!! And then he quickly added he was just kidding. 

He gave me a warning. Whew! What a relief!

We chatted a moment, and he assured me we all make mistakes.

And then, out of the blue, I blurted out that I was retired from teaching at a juvenile detention center and that I write a blog that has a lot of stories about the kids I taught because I want people to see the other side of kids like this.  I handed him my card and asked if he’d be interested in checking it out. He said he would.  

I extended my hand, and we shook as we said goodbye. In parting, he told me to try to stay out of trouble.

When there was a break in the traffic, I eased back onto the interstate, being sure to signal first.  For the rest of my drive, I had the cruise set and tried to practice my very best mindful driving skills, something I should probably set an intention to do every time I get behind the wheel.

What a wonderful unexpected encounter I’d been blessed to have—the traffic stop AND the business card hand-off!

Tell me a story

I am typically uneasy about promoting my stuff, but I think blogging has helped me feel more comfortable in my own skin. I am finding and developing my voice. I hope I’m using it as a gift I was meant to share.

I love telling these stories! I don’t have any answers, and I don’t claim to.  All I possess is a strong desire to help people look at one another with more acceptance and understanding.  

I long for us all to come together as one in love and unity. And if we can broaden our perspectives, I believe we can make it happen.

There was once a little girl so painfully shy she literally hid behind her mother’s skirt. She rarely ventured out of her comfort zone. For years she played it safe, living the life of a people-pleaser, never wanting to rock the boat for fear of being criticized. 

Behind the facade was a woman with little self-confidence, someone unwilling to share her vulnerability.

Growing, learning

Nonetheless, this woman has continued to grow and to learn. Now, a card-carrying member of the Medicare population, she is finally coming in to her own. She challenges herself to keep stretching, and at long last, she is owning every part of who she is—gifts and flaws, dreams and doubts. 

Amazingly, with every new adventure she’s finding herself a little more fearless.

And I have to say, it feels pretty darn good!

Right now I’m reminded of Marianne Williamson’s profound words.  Maybe we can all benefit from them.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

“As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”