Not-so-different Hearts

“Reizetta, sweetie, please calm down, you’re doing fine. You just need to relax a bit.” My mom held the passenger seat safety handle as she smiled blissfully at the highway entrance a mere red light away. She gave the impression of yoga master who’d surfaced to a higher state of mind. Meanwhile, I clutched the steering wheel as though it would shatter if I held it any looser.

“Relax?” I looked around the car dash as if ‘relax’ was a setting I’d forgotten to press, “Oh right, relax. Yeah. I should… It’s just a road,” I muttered.

“That’s right, it’s only a road and you’ve driven on those before. The light is green, so you’ll be going on the ramp now.”

I hesitated on the gas pedal and the car lurched twice into motion as I approached the ramp. It was a turn, so this pace was too fast, I thought, but then the car behind me started honking, so maybe I was too slow?

“That’s a little too fast sweetie.” my mom cautioned, maintaining her smile through it all, “And you need to keep your speed even.”

I nodded with stiff grace, and tried to keep my foot in place.

Switching lanes was the next challenge. The cars were all zooming by so fast. “Ah! The lane is ending!”

“That’s right, you should switch lanes now. Someone will surely let you in.”

I did as my mother had instructed and was surprised to see it work; I was allowed in the lane by a nice person who understood my predicament. Through the panic, I grinned. “You were right Mummy, they let me in. They were nice to me.”

“Mhmm, see? Some people will drive you mad with their horns and their impatience, but there will always be those nice enough to accept you.”

As she spoke, I was forced to pick up the pace. Cars and trucks of different shapes, colours, and sizes cushioned me throughout my journey, so even with a speed of a hundred kilometers per hour, I felt safe. They kindly accompanied me all the way to the airport exit where I felt confident enough to venture on my own. I pulled around weaving overpasses and through glowing tunnels until I reached the drop off center, shifting the gear into park and relieving my sweaty hands from their welded state.

“Mummy? How can you be so calm all the time?”

My mother chuckled. “Here,” she reached over for my hand and placed it on her heart.

I gasped. Her heart was beating just as fast as mine felt when I first approached the freeway.

“See, on the inside I panic just like you. We’re more similar than you think, you and I.” She leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Thank you for dropping me off, sweetie. I love you always, with all my heart and all my soul.”

I watched her back away, out of the car. She held no bags or luggage; no jacket or sunglasses; nothing for the trip. Like a magnet, I was drawn in the moment she began to depart. “Don’t go…” I told her, but no voice came out. She didn’t hear me, “Wait!”

“Goodbye.” My mother’s smile was already sinking into a fog that was too bright to be natural.

“Don’t go.” This time my voice had surfaced, but I was no longer staring at my mother, nor was I behind a steering wheel; I was under cloudy sheets, hugging a pillow, horizontal, on an empty bed, watching a lone picture frame on a desk, while coming to the brutal realization, that I didn’t know how to drive.