I’ve been borrowing my dad’s car over the last few days. Actually, it’s both my parents car – they are still together after all these years – but my dad drives this one and so he claims ownership of it.
I’m borrowing this car because it’s a long way to North Carolina and the new baby needs so much stuff. It has also made on the road feeding sessions much easier for everyone involved.
So I was thinking about this car the other day and thinking about how this is a metaphor or symbol for this life transition – I’m ‘driving my father’s car’ for the first time. It’s big and roomy – plenty of room to grow into – but also comfortable and well worn. I remember driving around with him as a child – he would predict when the lights were going to turn from red to green to my amazement and delight. Or how he could magically dim the dome lights of the vehicle. Fathers stand in epic proportions to their children and I was in awe.
So I’m thinking about borrowing my dad’s car…when I’m actually a father myself. And my child will only ever know my car as “dad’s car.”