Thursday, October 16, 2014

Nickie & Nateezy

If I were Wesley Snipes writing my I may never see you again, you changed my life letter, of all the people who passed through my human experience, Nickie (NB) would get one.

Definitely.

He would have to read it between trips because he is a pilot. There was a time when that made me fearful of airplanes (I knew him way back when) but I have no worries about it today. He doesn’t spend much time on land. He is super busy making the skies super friendly.

I miss him.

Before airplanes, he was a kid from Kentucky starting school at Middle Tennessee State University. Before this, I was a kid fresh out of graduate school starting her first professional full time student affairs position. And, we unknowingly started these lives together.

I was not sure that he would realize his dreams as a first year Aerospace major living on the 7th floor of Cummings Hall. Not that I didn't believe he had the ability, or drive, or passion to do it, I just didn’t think that I would not be around to see it. He would be my resident for a designated period of time, and we would matriculate to the next season in life. I did not know that we would know each other beyond our time in Murfreesboro. Though we had a great relationship, our histories, our backgrounds, our interests, our lives were so divergent. I believed I would eventually see less and less of him, until a time when he would be something, and I would be somewhere else. And that was okay.

Until it wasn’t.

I was on one of my random road trips. Not really random, it was my annual holiday pilgrimage home. This year, it was from Hamilton NY to Hooks TX. I’ll wait while you google map that. I cannot stay awake for more than 20 minutes of an hour car ride, but I can (and have) drive 20 hours straight. Crazy, right?

So, on this epic road excursion in my explorer circa 2008, I was passing through Kentucky. I planned to stop in Clarksville TN for a short break, gas, food, and a kiss from my great uncle James. Only, I was still in Kentucky, and it was getting darker and darker. And it was raining. And it was December. And it was 40 degrees. And I was driving. Alone.

Then the temperature dropped another 10 degrees. And it started raining harder. It was later in the evening. I wasn’t afraid though, considering the circumstances. But I knew this was dangerous. And I know that I was not qualified or capable to do this on my own. I slowed my speed. I began looking (though incredibly difficult to see) for places I could potentially exit the Interstate. I was preparing myself for that call I was going to have to make to my great uncle who had no idea I was en route because an important part of these epic road trips is not telling anyone I’m on them. I mean, because, well…I be last minute with –ish and I think it’s a super awesome surprise to just show up. The looks on people’s faces?!?! LOVE IT! Which is also clear indicator that I’m not too concerned about my life at all. Because, well, current circumstance…

I was planning to get in the right lane because I was in the left lane driving super slow. I mean other people were going slow as well, but I was clearly remarkably slower than the other people used to driving in such weather. As I anxiously made my way down the Interstate teasing the Louisville city limit, I lost control. Completely. Emotionally, Mentally, & Physically. I lost control of my vehicle. The explorer spun violently, round and round, ending up in the grassy middle Interstate divide. The truck was still running. No damage though – well no structural car damage. And me? Without knowing what to do, I just let go of the wheel and let God have His way #grace

I am not even sure I thought I would die. I mean, I’ve had whoopings that felt more like a near death experience than this one. But, in that moment I knew that there was nothing I could do. I rarely give in to helplessness. This was that time.

And I remained on the side of the road. I decided in that moment that driving a car is silly and I was okay if I never operated a motorized anything ever again. And, if anyone wanted this explorer, it would be on the side of this Interstate as is. It obviously doesn’t need me since it wants to drive itself.

A man eventually came to my truck to see if I was okay. He pulled his vehicle to the opposite side of the road, crossed the dangerous lanes and made sure I wasn’t hurt. He inspected my outsides and was relieved to see that I was okay. But he knew very well just how bruised I was on the inside. He reassured me that I could do this. That my car was okay and I could drive it to my destination. He helped get my truck back on the Interstate and followed me to my exit.

But that was my problem. My destination. I was in Louisville KY, about 200 miles from Clarksville TN and Louisville was still about 675 miles from Hooks TX. I had no idea where I was going to go. It was super late at night, still raining, still less than 30 degrees outside, and still shaken up. Out of desperation I called Nickie. I mean, he said if I was ever in his City to call him, right?

                   Hey Nick! What’s going on?!

                             Nateezy!!!! Wassssup! *he’s so intoxicated, kinda actually so*

                   So….guess where I am?

                             You’re in KY? No sh*t?! What are you doing here?

Well, I was heading home to Texas, I thought I would call and say hi… *awkward pause* Um, actually…I am scared to death. I’m on the side of the road. My car spun off the road and I don’t know what to do. *CRYING, actually*

Come to my house. You can stay with me. *in the most calm and sober tone ever*

Nickie, I can’t come to your house. What are your parents going to say when you bring on old(er) black lady into the house in the middle of the night? Um, you’re white. We’re in KY. #ConnectTheDotsBro

                        It’s okay, don’t trip. #NickieReallyLovesMe

…and with that, I put his address in the GPS and did exactly as he instructed me to do. It took me forever to get to his house, because well…cars aren’t supposed to do that kind of thing to me. But I made it there.

Nickie gave me a hug with that same smile he greeted me with the first time we met. He grabbed my bags, let me relax, shower and we did shots of Jack Daniels until I was the old lady he once knew again. Happy. Excitable. Engaging. Fun. Silly. He stayed up with me all night until I found me again. The brave me. The me who bounced back from horrible things to be more amazing than the time before.

That’s the beautiful thing about the human condition – when you finally accept your humanity, and it's imperfectness. Being in relationship with people. Nickie and I have known each other since 2006. In that moment, I horcruxed part of me in him, and he in me. And I mean we gave each other these very pure, very whole, very loving parts of ourselves from our MTSU tenure. They’re self sustaining. Can you understand that? Because, when we get together, it’s the most amazing experience two people could have. I’m not indebted to Nickie for that moment in life. It cost him nothing, and he probably would have done it for a complete stranger. I am indebted to him because there is this place in his heart that is just for me, no matter the size. Nobody gets the love that’s grown in that space – it’s for me and I'm imprisoned in that space for all time. And that is a gift; that is a sacrifice that most humans condition themselves to not make.

I have thanked him time and time again for that moment. For that moment that was really a moment between the two of us. His parents never came downstairs that night, and didn’t see me leave the next day. I never told anyone in my family because I did not want them to worry. I cannot even begin to imagine what goes through my Daddie’s mind when his girls are out living, let alone driving 1,400 or so miles all alone. So I never said a mumbling word about it, for the longest time.

I did, however, go down to the Cadillac dealership in Texarkana with Uncle Eddie to get a new car.

…because, well…like you believe I would have gotten back in that thing. You didn’t. You know me too well for that.

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