So, yesterday was
a hell of a birthday, in many ways, and I got to spend it with two of my
favorite people: my precious daughter and the man I love. Due to the vast
improvement the weather experienced over recent past weeks, frisbee lasted four
hours and I was actually footsore. That's rare... but as Jason pointed out,
there was a lot of birthday left after that. Cake, singing, presents, lots of
Mongolian barbecue and a movie... if you've not seen Frozen yet, I highly
recommend it even to adults.
Now, we were celebrating about an hour from home, so when we left I kept the radio down so Roo could sleep on the way home... the problem was, though I've not had it as a problem for a while, I was having a horrible time staying awake while driving. Slapping myself until my face burned, shaking my head, finally just chanting over and over to myself: please, let me stay awake for her, don't let my fatigue hurt her, please, for her, for her...
Route 59 turned into 55 south and I considered calling someone, but I couldn't think of anyone who I was positive would be up and didn't need the sleep if they were already getting it. 12:30. I can do this. I'm on 80 now and slapped myself so hard the sound alone nearly woke Becca. Just let us get home safe. Move your legs around, focus on the words to the songs since they are so quiet... would total silence be better? No. Easter comes early and Becca needs the sleep on the way home, but I have to drive, so I drank no caffeine because I did actually want to participate in the sleep part once I got into my own bed.
Finally, my patience ran out about ten miles from home on route 6. A guy on a Harley was riding in the far right side of the lane in front of me. I love sharing the road with bikers and I do my best to keep them safe, but I was tired and scared and just wanted him gone. I wanted him at the very least to get into the middle of the lane so I could see him better. No such luck. In fact, this moron was waving an arm like he was motioning me to move right. What the hell, dude? Are you trying to end me up in the ditch? I hung back, trying to stay awake and really wanted him to drive properly. Motion over. Slow down. Speed back up, motion right again. Is he drunk?
Suddenly, the biker swerves way left, and comes to a dead stop sideways. Terrified I'm too late, I crank the wheel right and see a bright light... followed by a horn blaring at me. I was wide awake now, and pulled over to the right shoulder. My exhausted brain registered several facts:
The bright light had been headlights, and I was nowhere near the ditch. The horn was from the driver I'd drifted in front of in the opposite lane. If I hadn't shifted right, I'd quite possibly have hit him head on with at least the driver side of my car. Also, the biker had disappeared, flat out. He was gone. Shaken, I pulled out into the road again and began making the mile or two drive the rest of the way home. Had I been completely asleep?
Wait a damn minute. There was the biker again. Same bike, same guy, middle of the lane now, matching my speed, escorting me all the way to the easy to miss driveway for our apartment complex. As I arrived, he slowed and turned, and though it was pitch dark, I saw his face. Familiar, yet someone I never got to meet. I heard a voice in my head like an older version of someone I know quite well: Keep her safe. I blink, he gives a half wave and literally vanishes.
So, as I go to bed tonight, as the rattled night before and what will be many after, I speak a prayer of thanks to the guardian angel I wish I could thank in person. You saved my daughter's life, Richie. And nothing could be a better birthday present than that. I owe you much. But somehow, I get the feeling you're already calling it even.
Now, we were celebrating about an hour from home, so when we left I kept the radio down so Roo could sleep on the way home... the problem was, though I've not had it as a problem for a while, I was having a horrible time staying awake while driving. Slapping myself until my face burned, shaking my head, finally just chanting over and over to myself: please, let me stay awake for her, don't let my fatigue hurt her, please, for her, for her...
Route 59 turned into 55 south and I considered calling someone, but I couldn't think of anyone who I was positive would be up and didn't need the sleep if they were already getting it. 12:30. I can do this. I'm on 80 now and slapped myself so hard the sound alone nearly woke Becca. Just let us get home safe. Move your legs around, focus on the words to the songs since they are so quiet... would total silence be better? No. Easter comes early and Becca needs the sleep on the way home, but I have to drive, so I drank no caffeine because I did actually want to participate in the sleep part once I got into my own bed.
Finally, my patience ran out about ten miles from home on route 6. A guy on a Harley was riding in the far right side of the lane in front of me. I love sharing the road with bikers and I do my best to keep them safe, but I was tired and scared and just wanted him gone. I wanted him at the very least to get into the middle of the lane so I could see him better. No such luck. In fact, this moron was waving an arm like he was motioning me to move right. What the hell, dude? Are you trying to end me up in the ditch? I hung back, trying to stay awake and really wanted him to drive properly. Motion over. Slow down. Speed back up, motion right again. Is he drunk?
Suddenly, the biker swerves way left, and comes to a dead stop sideways. Terrified I'm too late, I crank the wheel right and see a bright light... followed by a horn blaring at me. I was wide awake now, and pulled over to the right shoulder. My exhausted brain registered several facts:
The bright light had been headlights, and I was nowhere near the ditch. The horn was from the driver I'd drifted in front of in the opposite lane. If I hadn't shifted right, I'd quite possibly have hit him head on with at least the driver side of my car. Also, the biker had disappeared, flat out. He was gone. Shaken, I pulled out into the road again and began making the mile or two drive the rest of the way home. Had I been completely asleep?
Wait a damn minute. There was the biker again. Same bike, same guy, middle of the lane now, matching my speed, escorting me all the way to the easy to miss driveway for our apartment complex. As I arrived, he slowed and turned, and though it was pitch dark, I saw his face. Familiar, yet someone I never got to meet. I heard a voice in my head like an older version of someone I know quite well: Keep her safe. I blink, he gives a half wave and literally vanishes.
So, as I go to bed tonight, as the rattled night before and what will be many after, I speak a prayer of thanks to the guardian angel I wish I could thank in person. You saved my daughter's life, Richie. And nothing could be a better birthday present than that. I owe you much. But somehow, I get the feeling you're already calling it even.
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