Every Parent's Legacy

Worry.  That's every parent's legacy.  From the moment a child is born though every pivotal incident in that child's life, any parent worthy of the title experiences a mix of emotions with worry far out stripping the rest.

When Johnny was born I was the happiest human alive.  My friends and family hung a huge banner from the family restaurant proclaiming "It's a boy!"  Two days later, they took the banner down.  They did that after Johnny nearly drown in his own blood when his pre-birth circulatory system yielded to the one that sustains us in daily life and discovered his heart had no ventricle, he was slit, slashed and filled with tubing to keep him alive until the doctors could explain his condition and ask the question no parent should ever hear: "Do you want us to try and keep him alive?"

I didn't answer.  My father did...through me.  Dad died in 1984, six years before Johnny's birth.  A deep and forceful "YES" erupted from somewhere deep inside with all the neurological pyrotechnics of a Hollywood sci fi movie.  I saw white circles of light and seeming tunnels emerging from somewhere.  "YES!"  I've never regretted a minute resulting from making that statement.  Through his three open-heart surgeries - on a heart the size of a thumbnail at two days old through his last one at age four - worry literally caused me to bleed significant quantities of blood...real blood... in anticipation of each procedure.  The bleeding stopped when the nurse liaison entered the waiting room and announced he was okay.

But this blog is not about Johnny.  It's about Tommy.

For the past few months Tommy's been working towards today.  During the day,  at night, in Fort Lincoln Cemetery, throughout the narrow lanes that pass for residential streets in Hyattsville, around 495, up 270 and through the country roads of northern Montgomery County, I sat in the passenger seat as Tommy took the wheel of our brand new 2002 Dodge Neon.  Thanks to my sister Elena, his aunt, Tommy took official driving lessons at Henry's Driving School in Germantown.  He learned a heck of a lot more than I did fifty years ago.  But then a lot more rules and regulations are now in effect than there were when I was 15 and learning to drive.

Tommy set up his driving test for today.

He decided on taking his test at the MVA facility in Annapolis.  The bias and pure idiocy of driving test monitors at MVA facilities elsewhere in Maryland is so well-known driving school instructors throughout the state keep students spellbound with stories of monitors tricking students into failing the test.

No this is not rumor or urban legend.  I know first hand after accompanying my step daughter to different MVA sites 11 times.  The most egregious "trick" was when she executed the parking maneuver perfectly.  Followed the monitor's instruction to turn off the engine and put the car in park.  Having followed the instructions, she turned to peer at something, again at the monitor's direction, and took her hand off the wheel of the stopped, engine off, parking brake set, (did I mention is was a "stopped") car  Bingo!  She failed.

I've seen this sort of "activist/drama queen" mentality in numerous places including Congress but the place it was most apparent was in the Army when brand new straight from ROTC 2nd Lieutenants tore through recruit barracks turning over lockers, dumping the contents of foot lockers, tearing up freshly made beds and yelling at the top of their lungs to make an impression.  Standing at attention, I was given a glance by one of the lifer Sergeants who shot me an eloquent look midway between "this guy's a buffoon" and "what has this man's army come too with officers like this?"

Finally, we traveled to the MVA in Annapolis.  They did not cut corners or turn a blind eye toward student efforts.  They were fair, firm and respectful.  She passed. 

Tommy did not want to deal with the nonsense suffered by his step sister, heeded the advice of his driving school instructor and went directly to Annapolis.  As he drove through the course with his monitor, I stood under a tree next to the MVA building with two other parents.  We were all nervous for our sons.  As Tommy approached the parking section, I turned away.  No excuses.  I was simply worried.  I knew he could do it.  I just didn't want to watch if he was disappointed.  He made it and proceeded to the next test area.

By the end of the test, he emerged from the car with a grin across his face.  He did it.  Even the monitor was smiling.

So now he has his driver's license.  And now I have a host of new worries.  Comes with the title, I guess.  What surprised me was that Tommy's driving test took a similar toll compared to Johnny's operations.  Worry by a parent for each child is the same no matter what I guess.