To the fella in the nice blue Chevy pickup with the two kayaks on the roof… yes, you, gentleman who was so angry with me this morning when I waited a bit too long to turn there at the corner by the car wash…

I owe you an apology.

You might owe me one too, I’ll let you decide, but I wanted to take a minute and tell you I’m sorry for pausing to wait for that one extra car to go by.

I could’ve made the turn, heck, as you know, I could’ve probably made the turn three times over in those five extra seconds that you and I sat there in the left-hand turn lane.

I thought about just going on ahead and turning -even started to pivot my ankle a bit toward the accelerator, but then I didn’t.

Probably on any other day I would have, or if we lived in a different place, you wouldn’t have had to wonder in frustration what the slowpoke lady with big sunglasses in the silver Yukon was doing. If we lived in a fast paced city, or if it was any other day, I probably would have just zoomed on around the corner without that pause.

But because of where we live…and because of it being today…I didn’t.

I just sat there for that extra second because truth be known, I just wan’t ready.

I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t ready to make the turn, but if we’re being honest here, I could go back to early this morning when my husband suggested maybe I drive us to town today.

I wasn’t ready for that.

See, my man has been driving his princess around this world for on about thirty years now, and we’ve ridden in many chariots (our first being a blue pickup too, and while I will admit yours is nice, his holds a pretty special place in my heart, that big old beefy Ford he used to have to sometimes help me up into, especially when I wore that little jean mini skirt he liked to see his darlin wear).

There’s been a constant stream of old Fords since, and a whole bunch of SUVs to haul all these kids all these years, and then a steady stream of teenagers with their big feet on the gas pedal, and he’s taught them to drive those same vehicles too…but I’ve been his shotgun rider in all those rigs for all these years and we hold hands over the console and he wraps his big muscly paw around my littler one and he keeps me warm in the quiet.

But my man’s been pretty sick, and today he had a pretty important medical appointment, and the big muscles he used to use to help heft me and hold me are now being used solely to keep his shrinking frame upright…but we still held hands across the console, it’s just me keeping him warm now, his big paw getting smaller, but still much bigger than mine, so my fingers just wrap around his fist and that seems to be just fine with him.

So I drove today.

I wasn’t ready for that.

And while we’re talking about princesses, let’s talk about this one not being ready to pump her own gas on our way to town.

I’m not sure if that’s what I was thinking about there in that moment you and I shared in the turn lane, but it was on my mind quite a bit this morning.

How for the past thirty years my man has taken such good care of this woman, it’s been a rarity for me to ever pump gas.

I thought of how he always taught our boys that a gentleman carries heavy stuff and opens doors and pumps the gas for his lady…so with a house full of teens, how spoiled am I that I have almost forgotten what to do at the gas pump?

I pumped the gas today and I wasn’t ready for that.

I made a joke about how I’ve had that silver Yukon over a year now, the nicest vehicle I’ve ever owned, a limo to me really…my man drove himself to work and back every day for years in a beat up little Ford Ranger until it died just so his woman and kids could have a nice ride, a safe ride…and here just now today I didn’t know how to open the little door to put the gas in.

I laughed about it and made him smile, but deep down I was sad, because I wasn’t ready for him to not be pumping my gas.

I wasn’t ready.

I know you were upset. I knew I had kept you waiting, made you sit that extra five seconds there with me…that’s why I looked at you apologetically in my mirror.

I saw you shaking your head and raising your arms at me. I know what you were thinking, I’ve thought the same thing a thousand times in my decades of driving alongside people who have momentary lapses like I did this morning.

That is why I gave you a thumbs up. I was letting you know that yeah, I’m okay, I just spaced it for a second but I’ll move my ass along here as soon as this next batch of cars goes by.

I felt bad, hoping you weren’t on your way to work.

I saw your peppered gray beard and I felt like we knew each other for a second there, because there right next to me was another peppered-grey handsome fella, and how funny is it that he gets grumpy too with other drivers sometimes, and he’ll grumble at them, even as he’s forgotten to click on his blinker, or when he’s tailgating in a way that he knows drives me crazy.

You’ll like to know that right after I finally turned, he grumbled at me too when I drove like a dingbat into the car wash. He didn’t know it was because my eyes were a bit blurry and watery, and that the car wash was really just a diversion to postpone us from going to the next appointment and finding out what it was that they’d found inside him.

Because I wasn’t ready for that either.

I hope you don’t think I’m mad at you, becuase I promise I’m not. And this isn’t one of those snarky, sounds-nice-but-is-really-a-low-key-bitchy-post-to-prove-a-point post. I promise.

Because all we have to do right now is take one look at this world around us…those 13 gone forever…our nation crumbling…this virus run rampant…our people divided…and it could all just take us out at the knees.

We don’t need more negativity.

So when I saw that you were getting more and more frustrated with me, that’s when I blew you a kiss.

I know, crazy right?

I’m betting you had to share with your wife or your co-workers about the crazy lady blowing you kisses out her side mirror this morning, but hear me out.

One time a long time ago, I was at the post office and found myself in this weird stand off while I sat in my vehicle waiting to cross the little road. Along came a vehicle driven by a man who thought I was going to go the wrong way on a one-way alley way.

I wasn’t, but he didn’t know that, so we had about five seconds of waiting together, staring at each other, just like you and I did this morning.

He sat in his car and gestured at me.

I sat in mine and gestured at him.

I cocked my head in wonder.

He waved.

I shook my head in disbelief.

And then he blew me a kiss.

And I laughed and laughed.

I have never forgotten that silly little exchange because in that moment, me laughing, and then him laughing, and then both of us waving…our humanity connected.

I promise I wasn’t giving you the bird this morning.

I was blowing you a kiss.

I was, in that moment maybe somehow just trying to connect our humanity? I don’t know, it sounds so crazy you know, but it was just a reflex and a weird little action that bundled up all my fears and all my doubts and all my sadness and all my needing just a moment to find my feet up under me and take the next step…

I just wasn’t ready to turn yet.

I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t ready to drive my man around, I wasn’t ready to pump my own gas, I wasn’t ready for the oncology appointment we were making our way towards.

So I paused a second.

I wish you would have waved and smiled at me.

I know, I know…crazy lady what are you even *talking* about?

I would have probably done exactly what you did; zoom around and let the slowpoke driver know that you had WAY too much to do today to be held up waiting for one more car.

I wish you hadn’t done that though.

I don’t want you to get hurt.

I don’t want your princess to be without you.

I don’t want her to have to pump her own gas.

I don’t want your big strong body to not be able to drive.

And if I were writing to make a point, I guess the only point would be is that…

sometimes a gal just isn’t ready.

Oh, I WILL be.

I know where I’m heading.

And I know where my fella is going to be too.

But when the preacher asked us all last Sunday Are you ready?, I had to sit there a second, my arm around my baby, my man back home resting, I had to just think about that.

Aren’t we always supposed to live as if we are ready to go Home?

The Bible tells us to have oil in our lamps and be ready to go any second.

Heck, even the inspirational signs at Walmart tell us to live every day like it’s our last.

But sometimes a little bump in our trail will make us doubt how well prepared we are for the trip ahead.

Sometimes one of our neighbors might be in a struggle they aren’t quite ready to talk about just yet but could still maybe use a smile and a neighborly wave as we drive by their house.

Sometimes the weight of a whole world, and the sorrow of all those parents can lay heavy on a heart and leave the senses a little raw with sadness, and the clerk at the grocery store could maybe use a nice word when the cash register makes us wait a while.

Sometimes a mama might just be a little dull in the reflexes and doubting herself and her ability to navigate traffic and the road ahead so she might just stand there a second too long.

I’m okay with you being mad at me, heck, I’d probably be mad at me too.

But I wish our humanity could have connected instead.

Because then you would’ve understood…

While most days I’m confident and decisive…quick and zippy those times I do drive…

This morning I just had a moment when the bump in the trail made me doubt my ability to walk the road ahead.

I’m so sorry that I held you up.

I hope you’ll read this and know that the lady blowing you a kiss really wasn’t crazy.

I just wasn’t ready.

Psalm 121

^1-2 I look up to the mountains;
    does my strength come from mountains?
No, my strength comes from God,
    who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.

^3-4 He won’t let you stumble,
    your Guardian God won’t fall asleep.
Not on your life! Israel’s
    Guardian will never doze or sleep.

^5-6 God’s your Guardian,
    right at your side to protect you—
Shielding you from sunstroke,
    sheltering you from moonstroke.

^7-8 God guards you from every evil,
    he guards your very life.
He guards you when you leave and when you return,
    he guards you now, he guards you always.