Wednesday, May 19, 2010


I took the car to the carwash this morning.  I went to one of those places where you get out of the car, and trustingly hand it over to the nice carwash attendent.  That is an odd feeling, sometimes - just handing over the keys to a complete stranger.  While I realize the car can't really GO anywhere ( IN one side, and OUT the other ), the kids and I spend so much time in that car, that sometimes I feel like it is an extra appendage that I am not ready to let go of, BUT the car was really dirty, and I was admittedly too lazy to wash the car myself, so I handed over the keys, and proceeded to (what I like to call)  "The Viewing Room".

Unlike "The Viewing Room" that you may be thinking of (possible casket with dead person), this "Viewing Room"  is a long, window filled hallway that allows you to view your car as it proceeds through the carwash.  Funny, but standing there watching my car today, reminded me of when my children were in preschool. 

For those first couple of weeks, when I would drop them off at their classroom, there was that combined feeling of relief and concern.  My middle son, especially, always looked so sad when I walked away and LEFT him for 2 1/2 hours, but I would always tell myself, 

"He knows that I love him.  He knows that I love him."

............and walk away.

I would always come back just a little bit early and stand outside his classroom door.  I would peek through the corner of the narrow, rectangular shaped window, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he looked like in the world, without me.

While my car did not look sad after I handed it over to the carwash attendant, nor was there any interaction going on (that I know of), somehow there was comfort in the fact that I was able to keep a watchful eye on it. 

After being hosed down, shampooed up, rinsed off, vacuumed out, and wiped down, my car and I were reunited.  Together, we drove off to go pick up the kids, who are no longer in preschool.  They are now teenagers, and instead of looking sad when I walk away from them, they are now walking (as fast as they can) away from me, but that's okay.  I just tell myself,

"I know that they love me.  I know that they love me."

............and I let them walk away.

Afterall, I can always view them through the window.   


  1. Wow ...this is beautiful writing. Thanks for this. Neat that we have kids of somewhat similar ages, so I really relate. Keep 'em coming, I really look forward to each one.

  2. Thanks, Mindy. That really means a lot. I will try my best!

  3. Very moving and oh so true. My youngest is just starting to walk away without looking. Sometimes I let her and sometimes I ask for a hug (for me). It's bitter-sweet. Possibly I should be checking out your Wines under $20 for a pick me up. Keep up the nice writing!

  4. Yes, I am the one always asking for the hug these days, Michelle. I know what you mean.
    Thanks for reading!