Today was totally stressful. I have this funky biodiesel Jeep Grand Wagoneer that I adore but, like other intriguing entities to which I have in the past misguidedly hitched my existential star, it is unreliable. Twice now I have poured time, work and money into making this relationship work, getting the jeep all fixed up and roadworthy, intending to make this truck my daily driver. My brave companion of the road.
Both times I warmed up slowly, getting acquainted by taking small trips near home, and when doing so it bore the boys and me stylishly and effectively. I began to trust. To believe. But once I was ready to seriously invest in the relationship, take it to the next level, really commit, dammit, well -- both times it took me far from home and then just...died. Twice now it has repaid my financial and (not inconsiderable) emotional investment by leaving me stranded. Literally. And this latest time, well. It was sort of more than I could handle gracefully. Life has been good recently, I am grateful for the quiet upswing in our circumstances. But it's startling and distressing to see how little reserve I've been able to rebuild, how quickly and easily knocked back into crisis and despair I seem to be.
Enter my best friend Heather who showed up to sit with me in my interminable wait for the tow truck driver. What a way to spend your Saturday night, right? She then took me out for hamburgers and french fries and pie and in general fluffed me up and smoothed me down and patted me back into something resembling human form instead of a quivering mass of stress and failure.
So we were on our way to dinner after several hours of Heather calming me down and listening patiently to me obsess and complain during the above-mentioned tow truck waiting period. We were both starving and happily anticipating dinner at Baugher's, a long-time favorite country restaurant for both of us. As we cruised into Westminster I spied an automobile dealership that had vast strings of balloons flying above its car lot, curling away into the evening autumn sky. Knowing I'd already rested heavily upon Heather's good graces this day, I asked humbly if she would mind turning the car around to take me back so I could take some photos. Heather very patiently asked if it had to be now, rather than after dinner, and I said very quietly that by the time we were done eating dinner it would be dark and the opportunity lost. To H's vast credit she did not sigh, at least not out loud, and she took the next U-turn and delivered me to the balloon place.
The chance to make some pictures, to reclaim a positive and generative part of myself after a draining day, was indescribably wonderful. Like hitting the reset button on my life and my sense of self, flipping the switch from failure to fruitful. And I really loved the images that resulted. Up, up and away.
Today's image gratefully dedicated to Heather Joslyn: stalwart, confidante, utter ally.
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