You promised me we wouldn’t run out of gas- you promised we would make that twenty-two hour drive with no complications and that there was nothing to be scared of. I believed you- I got in that car with you and I trusted you.
And you- you ran out of gas. You broke that trust. And yet you did it so gracefully and in a way that allowed me to feel frustrated and annoyed with you all while feeling secure. For awhile it was just a funny story- another example of you being a smartass but throughout this past week as I have reflected on how much of a father figure you were to me and how many times you pushed my buttons- I realized that you more than likely took my vulnerability and used it as a teaching moment just like you were infamous for.
You chose the smallest town, the one in the middle of nowhere, the one that brought my fear to life in the most dramatic way possible to pull over on the side of the road and run out of gas to prove to me that fears can be faced head on. You did it constantly- whether it was making me guard the most talented girl on the other team, making me stay late to finish making my free throws or finding the most abandoned little Texas town to break down in- you made me face my fears head on. You constantly pushed me to become the best person I possibly could be and take the world on without fear.
Thank you for running out of gas. Thank you for making me defend the shooting guard from St. Mary’s every single time. Thank you for taking me to free throw championships and making me stay late after practice. Thank you for pushing me to be the best person possible. Thank you for always finding an opportunity for a teachable moment and proving to me that fears are meant to be faced.
I have been more scared this year than ever before- but somehow you have made that okay. You have made fear a healthy obstacle and have inspired me to persevere and face it head on. Thank you for loving me as selflessly as you did and making it a point to show me how beautiful the world can be once the fear is gone.
I am who I am today because of you and because you ran out of gas in that little town in Texas.