We went out to my parents’ house today. A check-engine light lit up on our dashboard last week, and along with my recent dead battery experience I thought it would be wise to get the car checked out. An honest and friendly dealership in my hometown diagnosed the problem (something about an air compressor?), and promptly presented me with a (very) large bill. Sigh. I authorized the repairs and tried not to think about the sacrifices we’ll have to make during the next few months to make up for it. Sometimes it feels like just when we’re about to get ahead, something pops up to keep us in our place. Double sigh.
We stayed with my parents for dinner, and once the kids were bathed and put into their jammies we got into the newly-repaired car to head home. It was a peaceful and uneventful late-night drive. Evie requested some classical music, and I asked them what they were grateful for (“Going to Granmary’s house,” was their reply). Two minutes later, all three of them were sound asleep.
Tonight as I drove through the dark and crisp night, I was overcome. With gratitude. With a sense of responsibility. With love. Three tiny little bodies were sound asleep behind me, totally dependent on me to keep them safe and warm on the long drive back to our home in the city. I couldn’t feel more blessed and grateful.
Sure, it was annoying to have an expensive and unexpected auto repair. But, as we sped through the darkness I reflected on how lucky we are to have a safe car to transport my most precious little humans. Indeed, it was money well spent!
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