2.14.2012

The Edge of Recall

Have you ever had a moment pass that you honestly could not remember? For most of us it happens a lot, but usually with relatively insignificant things. But what if it was really important? What if the memory you were grasping at made you question your competence at something vitally important to your life?

In case you haven't figured it out, it happened to me today. I was in a car accident this morning - don't worry, no injuries were incurred - and for the life of me I can't remember how I got into the uncomfortable position of being at fault for a couple hundred dollars' worth of damage to my baby.

It really is the strangest thing: a perfectly beautiful morning, an early start to school, the powerful (yet confusing) strains of "One Night in Bangkok" playing on the radio... and the next thing I knew, I was rolling into an intersection with Joanna shrieking, "Cel, he doesn't have a stop sign!" The nice man I hit stopped cussing when he found out I'm a girl, and turned out to be pretty much the best person with whom I could have collided. Damage to the front corners of our cars, no injuries... it was a thirty-minute experience and Jo and I were merrily on our way.

Except that I then discovered that I had no braking power to speak of. The excitement was only beginning, as we limped the last five miles to Geneva (and through four significant intersections) using D2, L and the E-Brake to regulate our speed. It may sound daunting (or totally normal, I don't know), but that part of the trip was both fun and a relief - perhaps it was the brakes and not careless driving that sent me through that stop sign!

The problem is... I may never know. That moment that I can't for the life of me remember falls between  slowing for the stop sign and feeling the impact of the other vehicle, and it's terrifying.

Most people know me as a very confident driver, and there's nothing I like better than taking my dad's car (manual transmission) out for a completely unnecessary drive in the sunshine or dead of night. When I started driving, however, I was paralyzed with fear - knowing how bad an accident could be and how much responsibility would be on my head even if I wasn't the one who made the mistake. I'm sitting here hoping I don't go back to those insecurities - a timid driver is an unsafe driver - but what if my confidence turned into carelessness this one time? What happens next time?