The Safest Place On Earth

There is a place from my childhood where I always felt safe. In this place, I never had any reason to be afraid of anything or anyone. The world could pass by me and I always knew I would get to where I was going safely and perfectly on time. Nothing could harm me in this, the safest place on earth I thought, and I wonder how I knew this as a boy. Sometimes you just know things and there is never any reason to question them. You just know and nothing can change that.

The place I'm referring to is my grandfather's car, with my grandfather driving it. My grandfather used his car the way anyone used their car - to drive himself to work, to the store, errands - all the normal things one needs and uses a car for. My grandfather, along with my grandmother, brought eight people into this world and in doing so created my perfect model of what a family should really look like. Any time I questioned my own immediate family, which I seemed to have to do a lot as a child, I would look towards the family that my grandparents created and take comfort in knowing that I was a part of that.

I felt safe around my grandparents, and most importantly, I felt loved every second of the time I was around them. I suppose that's why I always hated leaving their house. Even after moments where I would be scolded by either my grandmother or grandfather, I knew I was loved and I knew I never had to question that - ever. There was something different about being in the car when my grandfather drove, and I don't think I've ever seen anyone drive with such a sense of control and calm as my grandfather did.

He drove the speed limit, stopped at every stop sign, slowed at the exact moments he needed to, never panicked at the wheel, never drove in a way that would make anyone riding in his car nervous about a single thing. Although I didn't know why as a boy, it amazes me to this very day that I never felt safer than I did riding in my grandfather's car when he was driving. Think about how many possibilities there are for accidents any time you get behind the wheel of your car. Endless really - either on a ten minute drive to the store, or a lengthy drive to whatever destination you may have, more opportunities than any of us think about for disaster of any number of levels to happen. Yet my grandfather drove so perfectly that an accident and his car were like opposing ends of magnets - disaster of any kind seemed to head in the opposite direction.

I felt as safe riding in the car with my grandfather as I did sitting on his couch. Nobody could ever get me someplace more safely than he could. He saw everything, though he never really spoke about it. His every move was deliberate, nothing happened by accident or chance. I think about riding in my grandfather's car as a child, when things get too crazy and seem to go too fast. I try to slow my thinking and soak up how unflappable my grandfather always was. It's my warmest memory of a man I loved but foolishly never told him enough while he was here. His very being held me and looked at me calmly telling me that I would always, always get to where I am supposed to be, and these days I give that more thought than ever before. I miss those rides in my grandfather's car. Many years later, as a grown man of 30, I wanted to take my grandparents and my sister who was in town from California, out to dinner at a new restaurant that a friend and former coworker opened. Since my car was small, I didn't think my grandparents would be comfortable riding in my car, so I just assumed that they would follow me to the restaurant.

As we walked out of their house, I said they could follow me and that I would be sure to drive cautiously so that my grandfather didn't lose his way. I remember thinking to myself, 'wow...this man has never lost his way anywhere, and here I am talking to him as though such a thing were even possible'...and then my grandfather said something that I'd never imagined he would say to me:

"Chris, why don't you just drive us all up in my car?"

Oh.No.He.Didn't. Oh yes, he did. I can't even describe the feeling I had all of a sudden. Me, drive my grandfather's car, with both of my grandparents in it? My grandfather, the most patient and calm man I've ever known. The man who made me feel safer in his car than any other place on earth, the man who made the best barbecue chicken I'll ever have, the man who lived his entire life with the most incredible sense of calm I've ever seen - is asking me to drive his car?

I could live my whole life and never ask my grandfather if I could drive his car, or if I could drive him anywhere. He was the world's best driver, the world's safest driver. Never a close call, never a sudden stop. Patience, I'll wait, we'll get there and we'll get there on time. My grandfather always knew the way to anywhere he needed to go and as far as I could tell, he never questioned that. Now he was trusting me, his first grandson, now a grown man, to get him there. This man saw me try, saw me fail, helped me get up, and repeated this process many times during our years together. I didn't realize it then, but my grandpa was telling me, in the same calm way he walked through everything in his life, that he was trusting me to get him somewhere and to get him, and my grandmother and my sister and I somewhere safely, and he trusted me behind the wheel of his car, still the safest place on earth I have ever known. I hope he felt as safe with me driving as I did when he was driving - and yes, we got there and back, safely.