Losing My Vehicle

    When I was in my early twenties, my father purchased a white four-door sedan for me. I was so excited because it was mine, only. My sister's were too young to drive or even think about driving. I can't recall anything else about the vehicle's appearance because it was unimportant at the time. Now, I thought, I would be ale to drive myself to and from my destinations without my parents being at the wheel. It never occurred to me they were planning this surprise; and surprise it was. Even though, I had a car of my own, I knew it was still subject to the rules and regulations of my parents. At the time of this purchase, I was attending a local college several miles away from home and working full time. I was so happy to be able to sometimes be my own boss and make more of my own decisions and most of all go and come more freely.

    Upon entering the parking lot of the local college I attended, the thought crossed my mind about not being able to find the car after class. As far as I could see, the parking lot held an endless number of vehicles that I thought could, perhaps, pose a problem for me later. Being a prompt person, I had time to search for a  recognizable place to park; and I found it. I pulled into a slot three cars away from a lamp post with the letter E on it. I got out of the car and made note of a few landmarks to help, just in case. As I entered the building I took note of the door I entered and proceeded to class. I felt so grownup,now, because I had car keys to put into my purse.

    When the instructor dismissed the class, I almost bolted from the room in an attempt to make that thought that crossed my mind earlier an illusion. As I exited the building, I can't recall if that was even the door I entered. My mind was definitely set on getting to my car without any problems. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Seemingly, all my  written and mental note taking  just took flight as I stood on the steps of the building looking over a sea of cars in hopes of recognizing mine. I began walking up and down the parking  lot isles, repeatedly; but to no avail. The thought of calling my parents was the last thing I wanted to do. (Why that would make me appear not as responsible as I thought and hoped I was.) The drive to and from class was 45 minutes to an hour both ways and the class was only an hour long; however, I made this trip into an unforgettable event that lasted til dusk. Although, there were numerous telephone booths on campus, I continued to walk the pavement in search of my car, which seemed to have vanished. By this time I had allowed fear to control me and I frantically walked, prayed, hoped and cried; until I had no choice but to call home.

    In a concerted effort to not alarm my parents, I dried my eyes, cleared my throat and momentarily regained my composure, just long enough to get the story out. Then, I began to cry because I was angry at myself for causing the ordeal and embarrassed for nor being as responsible as I'd hoped. My father got on the phone and calmed me down, asked me a few questions and gave me directions which I tried to follow, but didn't. Undoubtedly,this was not the solution I was looking for; so I hung up the phone, pulled a book out of my bag, sat down in a non-conspicuous place and pretended to read while searching the parking lot. It's getting late into the early evening, now and I should have been home; but instead I'm not. The summer breeze blew gently on my face cooling me off; but my insides continued to churn in fear of not finding my car til late.

    The school parking lot is beginning to empty and this is what I'd been waiting for. Finally, I recognized my car and my heart jumped at least two feet inside my chest. What a relief it was to be come down off that emotional roller coaster. I packed up my books and ran to my car and drove off as fast as I could. I was so tired and frustrated from being, as I termed, stupid. In addition, I was shameful for causing undue worry on my parents. This was a day that I've never forgotten and I am always conscious about where I park my car.