Saturday, March 22, 2014

Dear baseball parent who hit my car & drove off without leaving a note,


You had no way of knowing this, of course, but I was already having a not-so-good weekend by that point. I mean, I was really ready for the stars to start lining up in my favor.

To be honest, it was kind of a lousy week. Too much work at work, too much work at home, too many people crying in my office, too many disagreements - okay, maybe I was to blame for some of them, but still: the drama! The trauma! It was a hard week for me, and the weekend had already gotten off to a rocky start.

I was really ready for the universe to cut me some slack.

I was in charge of track carpool that morning. I collected all of the boys and drove to the track, then ran around it a bunch of times myself, chasing who knows what? Another parent drove them all from there to the baseball field while I went home and grabbed my other kids before heading that way myself.

I sat by myself for most of the baseball game - enjoying the solitude, frankly. I mean, I knew lots of folks there, as one does after 4 long years in a place, but I was just needing to sit with myself for awhile. You know how it is.

I was supposed to leave early to pick up more kids and drop others elsewhere. But before I left, one of my favorite friends joined me and we chatted for a bit. One of the topics we covered was the crazy traffic in Amman over the weekend. "I almost got hit on the way here," said my friend. Ironically, it was just about at that time that you backed out of your space and straight into my left front bumper, hard enough to shatter your tail lights and push my bumper into the tire, denting up the left side of the car in the process.

And then? Then you drove away. No note. Nothing. You just drove off.

Lucky for me my friend CL was at the field. He came out and used a screwdriver to pry the metal away from the tire, so I could at least get the car home from the field.

This morning, Shukri the awesome mechanic showed up at my house to take the car to his shop. But he tells me it'll take three days and a fair bit of money to repair it. Three days without a car, right in the middle of track and baseball season! I'm going to be relying on the kindness of other parents an awful lot over the next few days.

It's Lent, you know, and so I'm trying so, so hard not to wish evil things on you and your car. My first reaction was to send every ounce of strength I had skyward, willing the universe to knock you off the road somewhere near Irbid. Or Tafileh; I'm not picky.

Okay, but maybe you were having a bad day, too? Maybe you just got scared and didn't know what to do? Maybe. I'm trying to believe in that scenario as I sit here in my house with no car in the driveway, the money in my wallet already set aside for these repairs. I'm trying to forgive you, preemptively.

But hey, just a thought. If you see me at baseball next weekend - you'll know me by the shiny new gold bumper on my car, or by the pack of kids around me, or by the fact that I'm just sitting by myself, enjoying the silence when the pack takes off by themselves - well, maybe you could stop by and apologize? I'd sure appreciate it.

Yours truly,

Donna

1 comments:

Nomads By Nature said... [Reply]

That totally stinks. I hope the person does have the courage and guts to make amends.

Please. Write your own stuff.