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Something to Laugh About- Memories

September 17, 2007

You know I am sitting here eating my breakfast- at 2:34 in the afternoon- and I am thinking about how great it will be when I can laugh about the things we have gone through in this journey.  Not so much the laugh of the bitter infertile…but the laugh of the infertile who only has a little bit of bitterness every once in a while.

I laugh now…but it doesn’t feel the same.  It doesn’t feel like “happiness” laughter. 

Like this one time (*not in band camp*) when I was a junior in high school it was banquet night at our church for the senior high portion of the youth group.  Everyone could go to the banquet but everyone wasn’t allowed to go to the “Senior” activity afterward.  If you were a junior you had to be the date/guest of a senior.  Anyway, so the night had been loads of fun already with skits, silly superlatives, etc. 

This particular night it was my usual group of friends which included my Older Brother (whom I shall refer to as O.B. from here on out).  O.B. was a Senior as were my very good friends (guys) C.D.,D.W. and J. — I do hope you guys don’t mind my use of initals.   Anyway, also included in this group was myself, M and L (who at the time was making googly eyes at OB).  So we went back to the house to change into warmer clothes and grab some broomsticks because the activity was to include broom-ice hockey.

Side Note:  that is the best game in the world!  You go to a rink and take the ice in sneakers.  You divide the number of people in half and that is your team.  The goal-of course- is to get a plastic ball (umm-difficult much on slick ice) into the other teams net.  Sounds easy enough but when you have 50 people on the ice—injuries happen ya know?!  Injuries that sometimes happen no where near where the ball is.  But its all in good fun…anyway…enough of that.

So we are at the house changing.  All excited about the fun that we are gonna have.  We get into the infamous (as you will find dear reader) red van.  Now this van was a Plymouth Voyager from 1990.  It was already 9 years old and not in the best condition.  So OB gets in to drive.  M and I are in the middle seat-CD, J, and DW are in the back seat.  L doesn’t come along because she’s just a Sophmore (which leaves OB kind of bitter as she was his date) and its past her bedtime anyway.  So the time is about 11:30 PM.  We get on the highway and we are just laughing and having a good ole time.  M and I of course are talkin to the guys in the backseat- when all of a sudden—white smoke starts to billow out of the back of our van!! 

Thinkin of course that OB is a good driver and paying some sort of attention to the road we all wait for a minute for him to *safely* pull over to the side of the road.  I don’t know where he was…but he wasn’t in the car with us.  Instead of pulling over he just keeps driving down the road…and then over the bridge. My comment then was “UGH, are you even lookin out the rearview?”

So what does he do?  Yanks the van clear accross five lanes of traffic–without looking–onto the side of the bridge (which thank God was a concret bridge and not the suspension bridge that we could have taken).    He throws open the door (also not a good move being on the drivers side with on coming traffic even though by this point..the billowin white cloud that was turning to grey clued people in that it probably wasn’t the safest bet to be behind us) and runs around the car—being of no use to anyone.

So the guys get out and are standing all around the car and after a few seconds DW lifts the hood.  There was a nice *glow* coming from under there that wasn’t coming from the hood light.  So DW tells CD to check under the van…and sure enough–our engine was on fire.  

So what do M and I do?  We call the fire dept–ugh still sitting in the middle of the van.  Not too sure what we were thinkin but it certainly wasn’t “lets get out of here”.  Its probably cause it was cold and standing on the side of a bridge in the middle of the night with the wind blowin isn’t exactly condusive to warmth.  So the guys tell us to get out and walk down the side of the road a good distance from the van-on-fire for our own particular safety…which happened for all of about five minutes cause we were nosey.

Anyway, so of course at this point we are:

1. Standing on the side of the bridge

2. Our mode of transportation is quite literally trying to blow itself up

3. Cold

4. Still thinking how in the world we can get to our activity and share our crazy story.

So we need a ride. You have five teens between the ages of 17-19 standing on the side of a very long bridge (its about five miles and we were right in the middle).  So we call my Dad.  Figured that since he worked on the other side of the bridge he would be the closest person to us.  That and since it was technically his vehicle he might want to know that it could very well blow up before the fire dept got there.  At this point it was about 12:30 in the morning.

So the Fire Dept showed up pretty quickly (since I am sure they got multiple phone calls about a car being on fire on the side of the bridge).  They put out the fire–took some pictures with us.  We took some pictures in the fire truck which was fun.  They asked us if we needed a ride and we said no–because we thought my dad would show up any minute. So our new firefighter friends went along on their merry way.

An hour later we were still standing by the bridge–waiting.

We played games there on the side of the bridge, thanks to a pack of cards in the van. 

We waited.

The guys raced up and down the side because they got bored—

M and I took a nap inside our now inoperable van because it really was getting quite chilly.

At five in the morning is when my dad showed up.  He decided he would work out the majority of his shift before askin to leave early. 

It was a crazy night but one that every single one of us laugh about because it was so outrageous!  Who does that happen to?  No one we knew anyway.  I talked to CD on the phone a couple of nights ago and we talked about that particular night by Mile Marker 8.  We laughed and laughed.

It was good talkin to him because it was a connection to the good times in my past that I tend to let fade into the shadows cast by my unhappiness.  I think that it reminded me that as severe and as crazy as this whole life journey is–

I may just be able to laugh in the end.

And wouldn’t that make me the victor—no matter what the immidate outcome is now?

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. babybound permalink
    September 17, 2007 9:11 pm

    No WAY!!! I had a blue plymouth voyager that we drove around in high school. We all called it the blueberry bus. You are so right on. I have a zillion memories of that silly bus that make the fact that I drove that embarrassing thing so not important. AND when I think about those things now it really does remind me that life has perspective. Back then, I was mortified by that bus. And now its the memory all of my friends love the most. I don’t really think my baron uterus is going to have that same effect, but you really never know. I am already able to laugh at my keen eye for finding just the right ally to shoot up meds in while bailing, from a party and no one is the wiser. Ahh such a story for the kids hahaha.

  2. geohde permalink
    September 18, 2007 2:12 am

    That is a fantastic story.

    Thank you for sharing it.

    xx

    J

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