I have always been independent. Early in my adult life, I realized that if I wanted to follow my heart's desire and travel, I would probably have to do it alone. No one I knew had the same interests as me. So at age 19, I boarded on a plane and headed for London, England - where I knew nobody. Then on to Israel, where an Israeli friend met me at the airport. In London I at least could speak the language, but in Israel, I didn't understand a word. After several days in Tel Aviv, my friend Ilana dropped me off at the bus station and I headed off (alone again) to Haifa and Kibbutz Hazorea, where I didn't know a soul. My plan was to work while learning Hebrew so that five months later I would be ready to do a year's study at Jerusalem's Hebrew University.
Since that time, I've been no stranger to traveling alone.
So I find it strange - in the past year or so - when Terry wants to drive me places, like my father did my mother - the unspoken message being that she (as a woman) wasn't a good enough driver.
Now I admit that Terry enjoys driving, while I don't. I drive through necessity - it's the freedom I enjoy.
Part of me wants to just let him. But I also recognize that there is no telling which of us will be able to drive longer, in the big picture. I don't want to depend on him in case some day I'm the one who may have to drive.
So as I get ready to go to a place I haven't been before, Terry often volunteers:
Wait, I'll take you.
It would be so easy just to let him. Often I do - it's more fun to go with someone. (But I don't want to make it a habit and lose my confidence... and my freedom.)
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