Last week Erica spoke with a local Knoxville mother who tragically lost her 13-year-old son a few years ago. She mentioned to Erica that, amongst other things, she didn't drive for 4 months. The thought of driving Erica around for the next few months isn't an inconvenience but rather allows me some control over the safety of my family and an opportunity to focus on anything other than the inevitable black cloud in my rearview (like what I did there with the pun?).
Let me offer some additional context...I cover the entire State of Tennessee, parts of Norther Mississippi and Southwest Virgina for my company, which is to say I drive quite a bit. And I like to drive. I like to listen to a podcast (anything sports related) an audiobook (currently listening to the Elon Musk biography by Walter Isaacson) or any Spotify playlist that includes 90 era's Grunge (a lot of Alice in Chains in current rotation).
In fact, the day before Kyle passed Erica and I were having breakfast, and I mentioned that I would probably hand down my Chevy truck to him when he turned 16. It was paid in full, in good condition with low mileage (under 90K). Hell, I learned how to drive in a mid-sized truck delivering auto parts for my dad's business before I even turned 16.
One time I let Kyle drive my truck. This was earlier this year, and we had spent an hour or so at the ballpark taking BP and fielding grounders. The park was empty and the ideal location to learn how to drive. Kyle was a big kid - around 5'4" 130 lbs with big hands and big feet. In fact, over the Summer, he had really started to thin out, but he was a solid kid even from the day we brought him home from the hospital - meaning he could easily see over a dashboard and reach the pedals. Do you remember your driver's education classes? The car would have the separate brake on the passenger side so your driver's ed teacher (always an old coach) could slam on the emergency brake before you wrapped the Buick Skylark around a pole or worse. I gave him simple directions, "Gas right, break left, only use your right foot." And it went about as well as you would imagine. We slammed the gas, then slammed the brake. He turned too sharply. I've never been so afraid going 4 MPH in a empty parking lot. Finally, before we jumped a ditch, I threw my left leg over the center console and hit the brake while simultaneously putting the truck in park. And we laughed and laughed and agreed it would be a while before we ever let him get behind the wheel of a car again. He remarked that he was fine with letting me drive him around for the rest of his life.
Every day I look for a sign of Kyle's presence and maybe it's been under my nose, or in the passenger seat the last three weeks. By driving Erica around during her personal grief journey I'm fulfilling Kyle's desire to have me in control of the future safety of our family. Maybe I should open my own business called, "Brennan's Livery Service" and trim out a Crown Vic, take on two clients (Erica and Leah) and get a black suit with a skinny tie and a captain's hat.
Now that would make Kyle laugh.
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