September 5th, 2017
A Letter to My Driving Teacher
There a lot of driving teachers in the world. There are a lot of people who gave me directions to my destinations. There are a lot of people that I like so much. But I know once you read this, you know who I am talking about. Uncle Vinnie, you rock it. You are the best driving teacher and the one I admire and care about the most. I’m writing this letter to say thank you for everything and to let you know how grateful I am to have you not only as my uncle but also as my father.
Those were the hottest days of summer 3 years ago when I moved from Lawndale to Corona to live with your family. I didn’t have a car and didn’t yet know how to drive. I relied on everybody to commute from here to there. I was terrible at getting directions and driving. My eyesight was bad so I didn’t even think about having a driver license or a car. You were the only one who believed I can do it and go to everywhere by myself with my own car. You believed in me when I didn’y even believe myself.
Back to the first driving lesson. I remember that I see you were too big, too tall for a rented Corolla car. This car looked ridiculous small for you. The seat is narrow and yours legs struggled to fit in the car. Your eyes were black, but I think I not that Noir black you used to have before. I couldn’t believe you’re already 62 with grey hair and your eyes are also, your wrinkles are as not as much as you think and they make you look cool when you smile. You always wear glasses to read news on the IPad, but you never need it to drive, you know exactly every street road names and you remember every right turn only lane. I have disability in getting directions. I used my hand gesture to state which side is right and which is left. That’s the reason why it’s harder to drive for me, and it took me forever to be able to park on the left-hand side or to pull over. From that moment, I knew you are the most patient and loving person to me.
You know me, you know I hate feeling vulnerable. I hate feeling like someone can see when I’m not at my strongest and that I have the opportunity to break. I was totally broken at that time, the day you drove the me crying home, and the conversation we had was the most precious moment of my life. Now I wanted to say thank you for making me feel completely comfortable when I find myself in such a fragile state. You recognize my vulnerability the most, possibly because I’m able to let it show around you, and you help me work through it and guide me away from it. What I’m most thankful for is...