Training Wheels

"Do you want to drive?" my Dad asked as he held out the keys to his white Buick Park Avenue. The year was 1987. I was fourteen years old and I had never been behind the wheel before.

Surprised at the offer, I answered, "Yes!" and grabbed the keys and hopped in to the driver's seat. My Dad calmly gave me instructions on putting the car into reverse and pulling out of the parking stall. We had just left a Stake Dance Committee meeting, so I was trying to navigate my way out of the Stake Center parking lot.

"Now, put it in to drive and slowly hit the gas pedal as you turn the wheel," Dad instructed. I was nervous and got a little lead footed and instead of slowly hitting the gas I punched it. Dad and I and the Buick went up over a curb and took out a small tree.

"Okay, put it into park and then get out."

I moved the gear to P, then slid over to the passenger seat while Dad came around the car to get in the driver's seat. I was scared as I watched him get in the car, awaiting either a lecture or punishment or both.

I looked at Dad and a grin stole across his face. He started to giggle and said, "Don't tell Mom!"

I giggled along with him most of the way home, grateful for such a "cool" Dad.

Today, I am still grateful for a "cool" Dad as I reflect on that experience with him as one of the many from which I gained a valuable life lesson. With three simple words and and a smile, he taught me that people were more important than things. I learned he valued our relationship more than the Buick's bumper and the money it cost him to replace the tree. I learned that I could make mistakes, but he would love me anyway. And, eventually I learned to drive.

Happy Father's Day.