Mike and I are working through our lists of preparations for his mission. The countdown is nearly over. Skill Balancing helps at this time because it includes assurance that with a job change, there is hope in having fun in spite of unknowns. As the time for a job change nears, unknowns become knowns - sometimes working against a successful launch!
Tired of Tires
As I write this, I am sitting at the car shop waiting for a tire to be repaired. This is the third time I've been here in the past couple of months. I muse that the devil will do anything he can to keep Mike from going on his mission. These efforts seem to be mostly hitting the car. The front right of the car seems to be especially cursed. Coincidentally, all the damage seems to have happened when Mike was behind the wheel.
The first incident was clearly Mike's fault. While parking the car, he didn't quite judge how close the right front headlight was to the bumper of another car. He accidentally poked out the headlight. The other car was undamaged. It cost us about $400. After that, it was all just Bad Luck (or the devil).
Later, he drove home from work one cold morning and encountered roads freshly covered with snow. Temperatures were rising a bit, so the roads were both icy and wet. He gently slid into a telephone pole, leaving a cosmetic dent in the right front bumper. No cost, but now the family car officially has "character".
Pants
More recently, Mike was out at a store getting his missionary pants hemmed when the tire went flat. Actually, he had been out the day before and the car dove into a typical New England pot hole in the road. The car steered a bit to the right afterwards, but otherwise seemed okay. We didn't know that the tire had developed a slow leak. Eventually, the tire went completely flat.
Being inexperienced about such things, he decided to drive the car home and fix it there. Of course, that resulted in further damage to the wheel and to the wheel suspension. About $900 later (including a rental car while waiting for parts to arrive), the car was back on the road with a shiny new front wheel. More "character".
Yesterday, a day after getting the car back from the shop with the aforementioned shiny, new front wheel, another typical New England pot hole found Mike. Lying in wait around a corner, this horned hell hole (yes, a typical New England pot hole) was slyly waiting for the brand new right wheel, hidden under glassy, greasy water and apparently armed with a sidewall-shredding pitchfork. "Mr. Sherman, it was clearly a side puncture. We can clearly tell by the incisions on the side." $OUCH!
Rants
According to the city, the car is only worth about $1500. I rather like that. It means they charged excise tax of only about $35 this year. During the first few months of the year, if the appraised value is to be believed, I paid enough to replace my car! Of course, there's no way I can replace my car for that price.
My previous car was officially worth only about $1000 both times it was declared "totaled" by insurance companies. (It was rear-ended both times with the other drivers clearly at fault.) By declaring the car a total loss each time, the insurance companies could pay less than what was required to repair it. No comparable cars were available at that price, of course. Both times, I had the car repaired and paid the difference. When I bought my current car, the trade in value of the old car was $50 after 230,000 miles and 12 years of abuse.
I hate cars. As far as I am concerned, there is no such thing as "investing" in a car (unless you have no intentions of actually driving it, of course). I use them, abuse them and lose them. I have yet to even wash my current car, allowing it to maintain "character" courtesy of my children's finger-painted "wash me" graffiti. It is not a member of the family. I put money into this car because it costs me less than putting money into another car.
Worth
It's a good thing the city thinks my car isn't worth much, I suppose. Then again, if the city thought my car was worth more, maybe they would have fixed those pot holes!
The worth of Mike, on the other hand, is not so easily discounted. In fact, any investment in him has great returns. He has done good things in his life so far. Now, he is about to do many great things on his mission. The repairs for the car and related annoyances are trivial and pale in comparison in terms of costs and rewards.
Opposition seems to be mounting as the countdown progresses to launch his mission. We are lucky. So far, the bulk of the opposition seems to be hitting the front right section of the family car. It can be repaired. Money is a renewable resource. Eventually, even this car will be discarded.
Birth
It is getting more difficult as the time draws near, not unlike pregnancy. This is a lot like before Mike was born. The first 3 months of his pregnancy, Catherine took it in stride, hardly noticing. The second three months, she still maintained her status and dignity. Given that the first 6 months were so easy, how hard can the last 3 months be?
During those last three months, she turned into a duck. She was shaped like a duck. She waddled like a duck. And, on occasion, she accidentally quacked like a duck.
Prior to Mike's delivery, I faithfully attended classes and, at her insistence, rehearsed all the various breathing and focus exercises with her. Step by step, I was to calmly help her through a painless delivery. She carefully lectured me about how important it was that I follow these procedures exactly, no matter what.
Grits and Grunts
I don't remember what she said when I began counseling her about her breathing methods as instructed during delivery. I recall that it wasn't a response that we covered in the classes. It was immediately obvious that my silence was most treasured. I also learned what it felt like to have a tourniquet on my right arm as she clenched and twisted my sleeve into a tight knot while tightly closing her eyes, gritting her teeth and grunting the boy into the world.
Now, I suppose my turn is coming to close my eyes, grit my teeth and grunt. In a few days, I'll be launching my boy into the world. His sisters are already upset about Mike leaving. I know I'll miss him as will others.
And, the devil will weep, having only succeeded in giving the family car a bit more "character". But, deep inside I'll feel joy and comfort in knowing that Mike has a hopeful start towards enjoying the work of his mission.
-- SKS
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