I love car conversations. You can’t retreat from truth when you open your heart in such close proximity. And let’s not even start with the beautiful imagery of conversing and processing while both ends of the dialogue are going in the same direction, feeling the same bumps, diverting the same kamikaze squirrels. Cars are a safe place to take risks because storming out of the room also includes road burn. : ) And while some people may turn on the radio before words can ever be exchanged, you can’t deny the ample opportunity that comes in the in-between of a driver, a passenger, and their destination.
Yesterday, my Aunt Jen and I had two of those conversations as we took an hour long drive to and from a graduation ceremony. As we were physically in unison, we traveled along; processing, asking questions, and taking risks with one another.
I never grew up spending time with Aunt Jen, but circumstances have me living with her and my uncle when I'm not at school, and I take this as the time God has given us to really meet each other. This car ride was only one beautiful moment in our growing relationship. My aunt is analytical, sensible, VERY straightforward, logical, and, well, beautiful. Me, on the other hand, I am “whatever” (I say that word slow, drawn out, and with my hands randomly swirling in the air). I don’t make five year plans, I don’t make decisions, I don’t lock myself in to anything that has to do with my future. I over commit to activities that I can do in the immediate future, but I’m not opening any doors with long halls attached to them.
Aunt Jen was an accountant; she now makes war with the cat hair on her new hardwood flooring because she can’t work due to medical issues. : ) I really appreciate her and look up to her. She has worked so hard in her life, and has endured so much. She and I are very different, but we hold the same faith, and this makes me learn so much from someone who is so different from me. But here we are two very different people, different ways of processing, different ways communicating and we are pulling from our cores, trying to answer hard questions, wrestling with secret thoughts and fears.
On the way, we discussed grief, Christianity, and suicide. On our way back we talked about my future and my fears. Both rides were heavy, but healthy.
A strong Christian man who ministered to my aunt and uncle while simultaneously remodeling their home, who was loved by so many… committed suicide on Sunday morning. Aunt Jen found out 5 minutes before we were set out to leave for the graduation ceremony. We decided to go anyways. All the way there I tried to encourage and console my aunt, we discussed and asked questions. I comforted her in her grief and confusion. I prayed for her as she drove. She asked, “Why?” and I said, “I don’t know, I just don’t know.”
She drove baffled, and I rode lacking any good words of wisdom. I shared with her what little bit of comfort I could. But all in all, it was a time of questioning together and Praying. It was an hour ride of questions and prayer…and small talk in between.
The ceremony was normal; we put our sadness and confusion to the side for 2 hours. We fumbled with our programs, complained about children kicking that back of our seats, and Aunt Jen let me run around and say hello to people I hadn’t seen in a while. Then we got back in the car and headed out.
On the way back she asked me what my friend who had graduated was doing after school. I told her. Then she asked me the “dirty question.”
“Nikki, what are you going to do after graduation?”
My answer, “Um, I don’t know…whatever…who knows? God does.”
Well, that didn’t fly as an end to the conversation. She continued to ask me questions, “What about grad school? Where? What does your degree give you? What jobs are available? What other opportunities are there?”
Even when I hit her with my deep philosophical and spiritual answer to my life:
“Aunt Jen, all I want to do is love people, love God, and write pretty words along the way.”
No. That didn’t fly either, Because pretty words and hugs don’t pay off loans or push me forward, I’m guessing that is what she thought, I’m obviously putting words in her mouth at this point.
By the end of this conversation, I spilled to her all my fears of life after college, of my inability to make any decisions, of my cynicism towards society, and my fear of being tangled in a life of materialism. I talked to her about my lack of desire to just get a job, and then buy a house, to then fill that house up with things, and then be consumed with bills and legalities and this whole freaking nasty package of the American dream. I think it’s a nightmare. I’m so scared that I’m going to fold into the rest of America. It’s all cacophony when my heart is being pushed into the expectations of this society. There is no harmony when my heart is played with the tones of materialism. And right now money nags at me in my decisions and I hate it. I fear it.
I went so much deeper than simply leaving my Aunt Jen with a legitimate fear that I may turn out to be a hobo one day. As I spoke about all of this, I did it knowing that right now my Aunt is living the American dream. And I had to be honest with her, I had to back track and double think about what I said. But it was all how I feel. I laid my fear and my feelings of entrapment all out on Highway 18.
Me: Aunt Jen, when it comes to this society, to the expectations that are laid out in front of me…I just don’t fit. I just don’t think I can fit.
Aunt Jen: Well, that makes me so sad that you feel that way. You do fit in this world.
Me: No, I don’t think I do, but don’t worry; it might not be a bad thing.
I think it was good that God brought about a conversation to preoccupy her away from her grief, to switch the tables and let her minister to me. It was beautiful. She listened a lot, and mostly asked questions. We didn’t agree on everything. We came from two different places and I came so close so many times to belittling her lifestyle. But she loved me through it anyways.
With her confusion on the way there and my fear on the way back…we processed through so much together. The day had just started by the time we pulled back into the garage of my Aunts beautiful home. The moment we went inside and she set her eyes on the completely remodeled and gorgeous home that her friend had built with his own two hands; she could hold on no longer, the afternoon was spent in tears that needed to be shed. And neither of us knew how God would bring in people only later that night to minister to both of the car conversations, to bring peace to her grief and my fear. God is good and faithful like that.
Man…car conversations…turn down that radio, and get to talking. No matter where your words take you, you will both end up in the same place.
