My sister, four years my junior, taught me to drive a 5-speed stick shift. I had to learn how to drive it in a week because I needed to get to a job 250 miles away in Gary, Indiana. I was 20 years old at the time, and she was 16.
Believe me, she was not the first who tried. I think my dad tried first doing the grind maneuver before he jumped ship. I do remember my mother, who really had a tough time biting her tongue. I think even my brother gave me a few tips. Truly, it was painful.
No, it was my sister, who knew nothing about stick shifts, who taught me to drive. She just sat in the passenger seat, smiling, changing the radio station, and I think, smoking cigarettes. (Forgive me if I am remembering another time . . .) I don't believe she had much to say about the lurching and stalling. She was very supportive! She could care less. I enjoyed her company. I learned to drive, and even when I left flat Illinois and (almost) stalled sitting at a stop light at the top of the hill, I made it to Indiana and my job without a hitch.
Thanks, Val.
I am going to have to remember how to teach silently when the time comes with my own. Sometimes you just need to be there.
2 comments:
Nice memory of your sister, and along with the analogy at the end. Great post!
Well, it wouldn't be good if it werent't the darn truth!! May we all have people who sit and watch us when we have to learn what we have to learn . . .cause if they say anything, we might want to smack 'em!
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