Two years ago my eighteen year old crashed my beautiful, immaculately maintained, extraordinarily powerful BMW.

I was heavily pregnant at the time and had just spent over $2000 reconditioning the transmission, so when the phone rang late in the evening
my stomach turned.

Everything about the vibe in the air said BAD NEWS! His voice, usually peppered with 18yr old arrogance, was
small and shaky. His remorse was extreme, the guilt permeated the phone line making it crackle!  

Mum…..’ the space was interminable! ‘Mum…I’ve completely f#$%ed your car….’ his soft voice tapered to nothing. In his eyes the car was my baby, my pride and joy.

Of course, my first words were ‘Are you ok?’ Thankfully he was, but for the emotional shock and the consequential ordeal of breaking the
news to me.

Don’t get me wrong, I was disappointed that my car was a write off, BITTERLY disappointed for a moment there.

I had a number of emotions invested in the car, all of which I was soon to uncover during the ‘grieving’ process!

I was definitely disappointed, but the relief that my eighteen yr, old Mr. Invincible, was alive and able to call me, far outweighed
anything else!

Many youngsters have lost their lives in our area, driving as if there is no tomorrow, with the power of burgeoning adulthood
bristling in their veins.

And as my children have each reached the age of freedom and independence, for me anyway, there has been a snaky moment of future fear that
rears and wriggles, testing my faith in ALL That Is.

The point of this article is to share a realisation of the mystery of life and learning that arose for me yesterday (the anniversary of my
cars death!).

My boy two years ago, has become a man. He crashed my car and had to take responsibility for that, financially and emotionally, giving me
the worse news he could imagine giving me (although I could think of far worse!).

Looking back on the past two years I can say confidently that before the incident he was off the rails, hanging around with questionable
children, sporting low self-esteem and confusion, a bunch of kids looking for thrills in unlawful places.

My child had had a rocky beginning with separation and divorce, no access to his father (his dad’s choice) etc. He had a lot of love
and cuddles but his share of confusion there is no doubt. And this was playing out in ‘off’ choices.

As his mum, there was little I could do but love him through it, offer my opinion and occasionally crack down on him and refuse to lend my
car! But for this one night!

Since the accident , he has dropped those friends and endured a period of friendlessness. He has dedicated himself to an apprenticeship, payed me off for the car, bought and sold many cars of his own, made new friends, developed a good relationship with his stepfather, taken on a responsible big brother role, moved out of home and more.

He apologises with ease, has released the need to be arrogant, has an understanding of change, the ebb and flow of life, he has realised that he is flesh and bone as well as spirit, so drives responsibly!

Above all, he has accepted that I love him more than any number of BMW’s and that he cannot do anything to sway that love.

Sometimes, if not always, what we may see as a loss holds within its healing a gentle push in the right direction.

I am so happy that my young man crashed my car…although in the moment that he broke the news I may have had a different opinion!

I also, have gained much from the experience and am more grateful for the whole experience than I can say.

So next time you get some bad news, sure, feel the feelings of grief and disappointment, anger or confusion, but KNOW, somewhere in the
moment is a gift just waiting to make a man out of a mouse!

Until next time,

Keep breathing,

Arna

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