Thursday, May 30, 2013
No One Knows When You Cry In The Car Wash
The water in the car wash pounds down on the bones of my 4-door, cleaning off the trace evidence of the recent dirt road adventures. I am delighted to soon be clean.
As I cocoon safely from the harshness of my world, the bubblegum soap lays on a kaleidoscope blanket of yellow, pink, blue and green - quickly transforming from comfort to claustrophobic. I can feel my own protective coat is also being stripped away as the water jets release full blast in the "Touchless".
The sudden vulnerability startles me. My raw emotions win out and the crushy feeling pushing against my chest forces me to gasp a loud, moaning, helpless breath.
I just can't hold on any longer and I succumb to the realness that this is Day 17 for you laying peacefully in an unknown slumber. The tubes and wires continue sending out monotone but hopeful signs. Your future remains our mystery.
My eyes water and I channel my strength to push back the floodgate of tears. They well up against my will and break free - pouring out hard but just for a moment.
The hood-wide blower lowers and I slowly advance to the exit. The seconds on the dryer's LED timer tick down.
As quickly as I entered, the car and I push into the sunshine of the late afternoon, our tough exteriors sparkling and dry.