In a dimly
lit spacious room where the Christmas tree takes center stage at two stories
high. The restaurant is surrounded by walnut wood. It dates back over 100
years. On this particular night, I was meeting my Aunty Dorn for dinner. With
the lights of the city glistening, it’s magical and just perfect for Christmas.
“Should we
finish up and walk around the store?” my aunt offered. I should mention that my
Aunty Dorn is chosen family. My dad has been friends with her since college and
she and my Aunt Nancy, whose also chosen family, threw the party my parents met
at. On occasion, they will take credit for me being conceived. Gotta love
family. But seriously, if they didn’t throw that particular party, my parents
could still be strangers instead of having a 30 plus year marriage. Wow!
“Sure.
Sounds great!” I said to my aunt.
Walking
around the store, we saw the pinkest Christmas tree. I rolled to it wanting to
take the
whole tree home with me.
“Very you.”
Aunty Dorn stated. She continued, “Do you want me to buy you an ornament?”
“I’m good.
Thanks though.”
My aunt has
never hesitated to spoil me. Just then, my phone alerted me to a text message
from my caregiver. My van apparently wasn’t turning on. I remained calm and
thought about all the gizmos and gadgets in my car. Figuring that it was
something like that, I thought we could quickly fix it and get home. It was
time to go home anyway. Boy, I was wrong!
When we got
to the van, I learned the van simply wasn’t turning on. That’s a problem that
completely goes over my head. My aunt’s significant other, Fabio (yes, like the
cover of a romance novel) came to help. He’s a sweet gentleman.
After
tinkering under the hood, he told us the battery was dead. Completely dead.
It’s the coldest night of the year and I’m stranded. Granted, with people who I
love so it wasn’t that bad.
“Aunty Dorn,
would you please call my dad and see if he has some ideas?” I asked.
“Sure.”
It was
so nice to be with family and have them shoulder this burden with me.
Alas,
my dad tried to help but to no avail. We called Triple A then.
As we waited, homeless person after
homeless person walked by trying to find a place to rest their weary bones for
the night. They all got shooed away by other people. Please just let these
poor people be. Like I said, it wasn’t that bad.
The lights
of Triple A finally appeared. The guy jumped out of his truck, popped my hood,
agreed with Fabio that it was the battery, and proceeded to jump my battery. I
was extraordinarily relieved.
“Do not turn
the car off until you get home.” Fabio said to my caregiver.
“Absolutely,”
she replied.
I expressed
my gratitude to my aunt and Fabio.
Needless to
say, I got Triple A for myself.
