Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Reminders where you find them . . . take a breath and smile


Today was my third attempt in several days to bring my car back to the mechanic who worked on it unsuccessfully. "Engine needs servicing light" came on after my $300+ investment was supposed to have solved it. That and replacing the bulbs in the break lights and one of the head lights as well as an oil change. I'm trusting the oil change. And someone just today confirmed that the break lights are working. But one of the headlamps, the same one that was out before, is out again. I called the mechanic to schedule a correction for the work, but over the last 10 days kept getting one of those android sounding electronic voiced messages. So today I drove by and saw posted on the fence that the owner had died and the business was closed!

My last few days of annoyance with the car not being right evaporated. I felt terrible for this guy I had just shared a lively conversation with about classic rock music and how to find names for your little entrepreneurial businesses of which I always seem to have too many. I had paid with a juiceboxartists check and that's what had prompted our exchange. I was driving down to Mansfield's Comcast Center to hear my son play keyboards for Foreigner the next night and was pleased that all this work had been done on the car. The check got cashed, but the light's not working, the engine light goes on and off, and the gasping sensation that the car seems to make when I turn it on in the morning has gotten worse—the replacement of the "sensor" was supposed to fix that.

The unexpected finality of my mechanic's departure from this plane certainly trumped any annoyance. So there I was driving along feeling sad for his friends and family and smack in front of me was a van with the words and images above, complete with angels. It was a red light, just enough time for me to pull out the old Lumix and capture the phrase that reminded me to take a deep breath, to think about how grateful I am to be alive and well, and to find a new mechanic.


4 comments:

  1. always appreciate your life perspective, deborah. even when such a sudden and sad death is involved. he was a good guy, not to mention, a good mechanic. xo

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  2. Thanks for taking the time to visit my blog and for introducing me to R. So sad when someone so young leaves us.

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  3. Deborah-I-have-been-following-your-blog-for-about-six-months-(my-space-key-is-broken)am-loving-your-critical-eye-and-personal-commentary-on-learning-looking-forward-and-your-love-affair-with-"life"...i-am-also-doing-alot-of-photography-and-love-many-of-your-poignant-pictures....hope-we-can-stay-in-touch-I-just-signed-up-for-the-bikes-as-well-Hopefully-you'll-come-visit-me-at-the-Greenway...My-best-to-you-Suzan-Nyhan-(Suzarne@aol.com)

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  4. Thanks Suzan,
    It always surprises me to discover that someone has been reading the blog. So often it's as though it's out in cyberspace, forgotten and abandoned. I'm hoping to return to more frequent postings.

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