This month always feels like a car in drive. It’s partially the building momentum of it – a shifting into higher gear with no hope of slowing down until January. But of course, it is also the memory below, that returns to me unbidden this time of year. 14 years later, the thought of that particular moment still feels like a full-throttle beginning…
The first time I met Adam he offered to give me a ride. 25 minutes out of his way on Christmas Eve, and if he had better places to be that morning he didn’t let on.
As we twisted along back roads, his driving fast and steady with one-handed confidence, I squinted my eyes against a waist high Pennsylvania sun. Without a word, Adam reached across me into the glovebox, pulled out a pair of spare sunglasses and handed them to me. It was a small kindness really, but it belied such an acute noticing. With unearned familiarity, he hadn’t asked. Hadn’t waited for me to ask. I was a cynic cracked wide open by this singular gesture that felt blushingly intimate.
No longer two static-y strangers in a car. We were all at once in drive. His foot on the clutch, my heart in my throat.
It comes back to me the first really cold morning each winter and I wonder how a moment so small could have ended up so behemoth in my life. How 25 minutes in a car changed the entire direction of my future. How it is that December will always feel like a car in drive.