Dear Miss Stiff-Haired Lady in that big white truck,
When you honked at me today because you wanted to hurry up and turn left and I was driving through the intersection too slowly, I didn’t mean to flip you off. I don’t usually do that sort of thing. You startled me but I don’t believe in trying to out-rude a person. There are so many people in our town right now and the road construction is truly crazy-making. I had grocery store fatigue syndrome. And I was thinking about a funeral I’m going to tomorrow. I was not at my best and I’m sorry.
The man whose life we will celebrate tomorrow would never have flipped you off. He was a prince. A rascal and a saint. A storyteller with a father’s smile and a lover’s tender heart. He would shimmy his 80 year old elbows and boogie those skinny hips and just make you love him. Superman. He reminds me of my own sweet Superman whose elbows and smile I don’t see often enough. And I miss him. I did not know this dear man well enough. I wasted time. And maybe that’s why you were honking at me.
I could tell you had somewhere important to go by your grip on the steering wheel and the tilt of your chin. Not to mention the ferocious look in your eyes. I’ve been like you, in a hurry, busy, important. Maybe not quite as much hairspray. Too frenzied to allow the people making their way through the intersection to take their time. I’m sorry for ever rushing you, hushing you. I wish I had more time. With you. I wish I had more grace. With everyone.
So honking lady, I’m sorry. I responded to your anger with my own but it wasn’t at you. It was at me. I’ll do better. If I can channel Superman even just a little, I will BE better. I will try harder, give more, boogie once in a while, and think of you.
Make your way safely, and with love,