I often like to think of life as divided into four units. You spend four years in high school. Four years in college (at least). I spent four years in grad school. Four seems to be a good benchmark for me.
Almost exactly 8 years ago, I left the Ivory Tower. That’s two units of four, for those of you who are counting. I was not a happy camper back in 2004. In fact, I was nearly an entirely different person from who I am now. I had two Masters degrees but having spent 6 months applying to jobs with dedication and passion, I had not even been called for an interview. I was way overweight. I had been rather battered and bruised by my graduate school experience (that’s a story for another time). I was moving back home, which I felt wretched about. And on top of all of that, I couldn’t drive.
See, when I was 16 I wanted to learn how to drive just like every teenager does, but I knew that I would need special accommodations, assuming that seeing over the windshield was important. I called a driving school and asked if they’d be able to help someone like me and I got the curt response, “Well, we have some phonebooks.” Being 16, I took this as a ravaging insult that cut deep into my poor coal black heart, so I gave up for awhile. Then I came to the conclusion that I’d need to buy a car to have it adjusted, and lord knows I didn’t have enough money for either of those things. I was 25 and still had not cracked this nut. And now I was unemployed, unhealthy, living at home, and my college loans were coming due. It was not a happy time.
And then came Wally.
My mom scoured the phonebook (yeah…those things) looking for driving instructors that catered to the “not exactly normal” driver. I decided to call Wally. He came by to pick me up at my parents’ house. He had a red Pontiac and had all sorts of stuff in the trunk of the car – pedal extenders, pillows, books – anything a special needs driver could use. I told him I was not really comfortable with anything except parking lot driving, so he said, “Ok, we’ll go to a parking lot.” After a few laps of me driving in circles, he said, “OK, now I want you to drive home.”
Boy was I scared out of my mind. But somehow, Wally was like a fear sponge. He never EVER lost his calm, even when I came close to plowing into cars. And he perpetually picked on me, as I got better. “Oh, you sure you don’t want to just go back to the parking lot?”
After about 4 months of endless driving around orange cones, driving down streets, not understanding how to do left-hand turns, and all kinds of other torturous stuff, I passed both parts of my driving test and got my license. I could drive. I could leave one place and go to another, and I could do that whenever I wanted. Well, within reason. I had my freedom. I felt like an adult. I felt more normal. It was the beginning of a new beginning.
In a lot of ways, even though not driving is not technically life threatening, Wally saved my life. He gave me a bright shining light of possibility when there wasn’t a whole lot of that going around. Every time I drive, even now, I think about that man and what he did for me. And I think about the fact that I was just one of his many, many students. I wonder how many other people feel the same way about him that I do.
Wally taught me that there are lots of ways to save a person’s life. It’s not always sudden and super dramatic. Sometimes it’s four months driving around cones in the parking lot of an abandoned ghetto grocery store in an un-air-conditioned car in the middle of the summer. Maybe it’s something entirely different but equally unexpected.
Wally taught me to drive, but he also taught me that there are ways around every obstacle. I never thought I’d be able to drive.
What do you think you can never do? Whatever it is, you’re wrong – it can be done. It might stink working towards it. You might wanna quit a lot of times, and you might even have to pay a lot of money for it. But it can be done. And that person or those people who help you – they’ll look like lifesavers to you, even if the situation didn’t seem life threatening at the time.
And you’ll wonder, as I am wondering these days, how you could ever be so lucky and how you could ever show the depth of your gratitude.
Everyone needs a Wally. I hope you find yours.
Image Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tir_na_nog/3603202134/ via Creative Commons
This Wally (or Wall-E) loved that article. Inspirational. Thank you.
@davevandewalle Thanks Wallll-eeeee. Signed, Eeeeeeva 🙂
Very inspirational. In my life, I’ve gotten plenty of these kinds of people. I wish I could repay them all someday. Or maybe I should just pay it forward. Or both.
@danny Great point. Sometimes it seems like paying it forward is one of the best ways to show gratitude. But do they find out about that? Do they know that they are why we are trying to do good things? It’s a conundrum.
@margieclayman Anonymous kindness and giving coupled with paying it forward is much better even if people don’t find out about it. Rather than making the person feel good about a specific person or group – the feeling tends to reverberate to more or to all people. It restores the individual’s faith in humanity in general. At least that’s the general rule. 🙂
Simply inspirational. I think that we all have Wallys in our lives. Sometimes, we just don’t recognize it.
@DeanClevett Quite true, Dean. We seldom recognize what we have until it’s too late. Humans are quite silly that way.
I wonder it all the time Margie. 🙂 Thanks for the inspirational post and the uplift along with it.
@Martina McGowan Thanks Martina. It’s an amazing feeling, non? 🙂
I love this. I too have a Wally. Only in my case, Wally is a 6’2″, 250 lb peace officer.
No, I wasn’t arrested. Why would you think that? Geez…
On a serious note, I’ve spent three years wading through some stuff. I wasn’t healthy. I wasn’t particularly overweight, but depression and cold weather had packed on the pounds. I was working jobs I wasn’t happy about for clients who were, um, less than scrupulously honest, and giving up on activities that I used to love because no one wanted to do them with me. I, who can’t stand being stuck inside four walls, was spending my days cleaning the house and watching TV and slogging through till the next morning.
Enter “Wally”. We met when we were teenagers and immediately clicked. We liked the same music, the same movies. Doing the same things on the weekends. We were partners in crime. Over the years we lost touch, except for an occasional phone call here or there. Then I moved back north.
He took one look at me and started kicking my butt into shape. Literally and figuratively kicking my butt into shape 😛 He went running with me and hiking with me and forcing me to actually talk about all the things that were making me miserable. Because of him, I’m getting ready to go from being a full time copywriter to being a full-time health care professional who works only with awesomesauce marketing clients when the timing’s right. I’ve got my eye on my EMT next fall, and I’m hitting the gym every day. Most importantly, I know I can actually get through the bumps waiting for me in the next few years.
How? Because he tells me to suck it up every time I start complaining about it! We all definitely need a Wally in our lives.
@rmalove Yeah, your Wally sounds a lot like my Wally. He was very gentle and very calm, but when I would say things like, “Oh no no, that’s too hard!” He’d basically say, “Yeah, that’s nice. Here we go.” Even if I was totally white knuckled the whole time, I had every confidence that he would prevent anything bad from happening. I am not really sure how he did that. I was a REALLY bad driver at first 🙂
Great story Marjorie, everyone needs a Wally to walk with in life, if just for part of the journey. Happy that you found yours as so many people still looking. I’ve been fortunate to have a few but always room for more. Thanks
I had a similar experience last year. I was unemployed, a blog I was building ended, I was unhappy and frustrated. Then my wally left a comment on my super dramatic I am quitting blogging post. It was enough to push me through the barrier and to refocus my efforts.
The blog I started has given back my self confidence in my writing ability. That positive energy is something people respond to.In fact I just landed a local job in town that will come with benefits in a few months. Which resolves the biggest stressor in my life right now.
Things get desperate, but we have to push through in tough times. I have a personal belief, the only time things are really bad is when you lose the hope that they can get better. Somehow hope drives us when all other motivations are gone. At least from my personal experience.