Careless

A while back I'd taken my car into the auto shop to get an oil change and Mr. Zylstra said my break pads needed to be replaced and said the wheel bearing wasn't looking good either. I asked if it was expensive. It's pricey, he said. My car's not worth that much, I thought. So I went on throughout the year and throughout this summer listening to the clicking of my wheels but not really worrying about it. Zylstra said that if I heard the whirling sound all the time, then it'd be trouble. So I said, fine I'll listen and see.

I took two lengthy vacations this summer. One to South Dakota, another to Montana, stopping in Iowa on the way out for a wedding. I had so much fun with friends and seeing family and Brinley.
And when I got to Montana, I saw church folks and old friends. And they gave hugs galore.

Grandma traveled with me back to Hospers to see my parents and to drive her sister back to Montana. We'd been traveling for fourteen hours and finally slowing down into town when she heard loud clicking. She asked what it was. I said it was my problem and I'd fix it when I got back.

No, Grandma demanded. You're fixing it now.

I said I'd heard the clicking before and that it wasn't something to worry about. But both Grandma and Dad then demanded in a more stubborn way that I needed to get it checked.

I took the car in to a shop in Hospers early Saturday morning and asked them to look at it. They called and said it'd be closer to $700 to fix everything.

We wouldn't have let you leave, the mechanic said. I could take the one tire and tilt it from side to side. You had 11 more hours to drive, that right? Ma'am, if you hadn't taken it in and if you'd been driving down the interstate, who knows...

And Grandma said it, but tried not to say it too loudly because of her prideful granddaughter--we
could have had a funeral. All for a stupid wheel bearing. All because I'm a little stubborn and can figure it out for myself.

I know a reference to Bridesmaides doesn't seem all that appropriate right now, but there's no other way to explain it best. The main character lives her life on her own terms, goes and comes whenever, has best friends, a mother, a new cop boyfriend who she runs away from. She makes mistake after mistake and knows she can simply say a "sorry" as an afterthought and the people who love her will forgive her, but not without their worries. One day, the cop boyfriend guy says, "You think you can do anything and that you'll only hurt yourself. Well you're wrong. You've been hurting other people all this time. "

Anyway, I've been marching this solo routine--one that I've been proud of--for awhile. I can do it. I can take care of myself. I proclaim it over and over. I don't need to talk about it. I can figure it out. Thank you very much.

So I waited for the mechanics to check my car, to get it fixed. Aunt Linda asked if we'd like to come over and shuck corn. I'd have to be on the road a little later in the afternoon.

But there was Grandma that whole morning as we were shucking corn with my aunt and uncle in Iowa. They had just lost their son to a hiking accident last summer, and Grandma was looking at me with pain in her eyes, and she didn't have to say it. I knew.

"Promise Grandma you'll give me a call like you do every weekend," she said when I later said goodbye.

"Yeah, ok," I smiled, trying to brush away how serious everyone had become that whole morning.

And now I know, careless isn't worth the pain you cause other people.