But that was early last year. I feel I've experienced a thousand new and unsettling moments since then. I can look back and laugh now. But the point I make at the end of this little story is still just as important today as it was that warm night in April 2014. I need to hear it in my own journey right now.
I am leaving the writing as is, unpolished. I wrote it in about an hour...the day after...so it is rough. But it's honest. Here's to still learning lessons everyday. Enjoy.
The Voodoo Incident
In an attempt to be a good and hip mom,
I agreed to take the girls on a late night doughnut run downtown last
night, after youth group. Onnie had a newspaper assignment profiling
the famous, Portland-come-to-Denver establishment on East
Colfax...Voodoo Doughnut. Since our church is on East Broadway, it
seemed a ten pm sugar high was appropriate.
The place was busy- I've heard they are
always busy. The doughnut selection is fun, diverse and presented in
glass spinning towers. The place is funky, cheap, open 24 hours, and
very ultra hip...the workers are tattooed and pierced, nice and
slightly intimidating. Cash only, and there's an ATM on site to
prove the point. I'd be a little afraid to try to pull a debit card
out, honestly. “NO DOUGHNUT FOR YOU!”
We drove around a bit, looking for a
parking space. East Colfax at night isn't the easiest place to find
parking. There was a lovely empty lot almost exactly behind
Voodoo...a dentist's office deserted for the night. We passed it
once, there was one car in the lot. We slowed a second time, another
car was there, and the girls talked me into parking. I didn't see
obvious no parking signs and we were honestly only going to be in
Voodoo for ten minutes- Onnie will take pics, we will order
deliciousness, pay and leave with our sassy pink box.
You know where this is heading, right?
Our experience in Voodoo was fun and
silly and I swear we were high off all the sugar fumes. We laughed
back down the street, around the corner.
We all saw the lack of our van at the
exact same instant.
Onnie didn't believe and ran forward,
thinking perhaps that we were deluding ourselves and had parked
elsewhere in the lot.
“Mom, our van is gone!”
Of course it was. So were the other
cars. I suddenly noticed all the towing signs posted everywhere.
Ever notice how ignorance can morph
into clarity quickly when the stakes are high?
Our bewilderment turned to annoyance,
anger, despair...and for sweet Ainsley, fear.
I made calls. Found out our ten minute
doughnut jaunt was gonna cost us $288.
Not including the doughnuts.
I was angry and felt very incredibly
pathetically stupid. Who gets towed anymore these days anyway??
Apparently all the people illegally
parked in the lot in front of us, too. We watched it all as we
waited to be rescued and taken to our van which was now located in
the creepiest and shadiest section in all of Denver- the factory
district at Brighton Blvd and I70.
The fact that all those other people
were in the exact same predicament as us was little consolation.
Onnie kept mumbling to herself over and
over, “We aren't homeless” every time people passed us. Maise
realized shorts and a t-shirt don't cover nighttime weather in Denver
in April, regardless of the daytime temps.
And Ains? She was freezing and very
concerned that gang members were going to kill us. She was shaking
and telling us off every three minutes.
Of course, that didn't happen. Ron
came to rescue us and we got the van. I've decided having a towing
company and trolling parking lots for stupid people's illegally
parked cars is a very lucrative
business. I'm checking into it...those people make bank.
Is there a point
to this story? Sure.
I learned where
NOT to park in Denver.
But.
I also learned
that life happens and we make it through. Life is now and we can
either show up for all of it- the good and bad and bewildering and
the crushing and the exhilarating- and feel it completely, knowing we
will indeed make it through...or we can opt out completely. There is
no in between. The beautiful moments are only guaranteed as much as
the terrible.
Sure, we could
have avoided the towing last night. But we also would have missed
the fun and laughter, and those amazingly good doughnuts. It was
about the best doughnut I've ever had.
Here's to our $300
box of Voodoo doughnuts...but not really.
Here's to life.
All of it.
Peace.