Love Thy Neighbor.

“Damnit!” This as my U-Haul truck crunches into the front cover of the turn signal on the industrial work van. 

“Go figure.” I say to myself, working on my cussing. 

Panic now starts to wash over me, as this once arrogant handing of a 25 foot U-Haul is sandwiched between two work vans, one of which has been damaged. As I continue to pull forward, I look in the oversized, and rusty-rimmed side mirror to see, in fact, that the U-Haul is going to continue to scrape where the light protector used to be no matter which direction I go. 

Old physics lessons play in my head, trajectory and all that, stuff I can only recall learning about while playing pool, more than any class. OK, if I turn the wheel this way, I can alter the trajectory of the back end, CRUUNCH, OK, that actually did the opposite. Now I will turn the other way. 

SCCCRAAAPPPE. Ah, now I am into a tree on the other side of the bottleneck to the cul-de-sack. OK, OK, now if I drive a little into the tree and then turn, I think I will be free. My rational mind starting to give way to the fear that I am officially stuck. 

Aaaaand clear. Whew. At least that part is over. Now I know I have a few more inevitably, humiliating steps until I can relax. This, after a long day of moving and thinking one more step until I come home to my wife and child and maybe a leftover piece of that Dominoes from earlier in the afternoon. 

As I place the U-Haul in park and jump out to go to the unfamiliar neighbors’ door to admit what I have done. I can’t help but wonder if anyone saw my little episode. I thought of it before, when the crunch happened, but had to get out of the incredibly awkward spot. I didn’t see anybody, for it was February and cold. Nobody’s lights from their living rooms appeared on. Hmmm… I finished my walk of shame up to the doorstep where I begrudgingly knocked. I saw the little pug barking from the steps and I noticed it had one eye. This a conversation that I could ease my way into through living with my own dog with one eye. 

My looking in the neighbor's house like...

Nobody answered. The lights are on. I knocked. The dog is barking. Hmmm… Nobody is home. 

"Well, I have to get this U-Haul back to the rental place, it is getting late." I think to myself, a little relieved they weren't there.  

My drive to the U-Haul rental shop, a small, mom and pop storage place, presented another fear. Not only was there damage to my unbeknownst neighbor’s work van, but the U-Haul as well. 

“Ah, man!” I cannot help but kick myself for not getting a spotter on that tight turn as I pulled out of the driveway. I allow my deep regret for my overwhelming stupidity to consume me. I feel as though I deserve it. As I drive I cannot help but glance in the rust mirror at the side and think that maybe there isn’t that much damage. If there is damage how much would it cost? Could they really charge me thousands for this piece of overused truck? Would my insurance pay for it? 

Parking the U-Haul in the dead of night under a light in the back allowed me to check out the side. The damage actually wasn’t that bad. Still, I expect a call the next day for the damage that wasn't so apparent on the truck was clear as day, even in night, on the neighbor's van. 

Ah, well, my failures lie in God's hands now. At least my insurance will cover that one, I hope. I will tell the insurance it was my vehicle of course and not the U-Haul, insurance fraud? Not exactly. I justified. 

I leave a note on the window of the neighbor. I write a weak apology, and stick the note under the windshield wiper. My plans are to call the insurance people on Monday to let them know there will be a claim coming up. 

Kind of like this. 

The next day comes, and the neighbor doesn’t come to my house and rip me apart. In fact, the van leaves at one point and he returns to hardly acknowledge anything happened. I waited until Monday, for this occurred on Saturday night, and there was no communication again. I fess up to the State Farm insurance adjuster. I admit that I did this thing and there will be a claim. Another day, nothing. Another day nothing. Weeks pass. Nothing. Eventually I am walking my dog by the family outside and I tell him who I am and that he can call insurance to get this handled. He acknowledges my statement and their family moves on. 

Nothing ever came of the damage. No claim was filed, no repairs done to the minor incident. Nothing. That is the conclusion to this story. 

What I learned from it was far from nothing. In fact, it, along with where my family and I had to move due to events that almost left us homeless, was such an important event in my life that I just cannot overlook the timing of it all. I had moved all day. Worked harder than any typical day ( my day job is not physically active) and at the end of the day I wreck due to negligence and I await the punishment that never came. Trust me, it rushed through my head so many times to not say anything. After all, the U-Haul was turned in, who would find out? The vehicle was parked on the street and my vehicle has gotten clipped parked on the street to no apprehended hit-and-run criminal, so why not me, why not this time? 

I fessed up to something I did not necessarily have to because it was who I am trying to be. I cannot say it is me, because me, the real, most honest me, especially at that time, was too vulnerable to accept that sort of responsibility and punishment. I was too fragile to maintain in the face of that adversity. I wanted to be someone honest, so I did what an honest person, someone better than I, would naturally do. I did that which some people think nothing of, but where I was, what I thought, self-preservation took over and I was scared. My fear drives a set of skills that I barely have to consciously place any effort in to. Is all I have to do is allow fear to drive the thoughts of getting away and I will figure something out. An old behavior I learned as my punk adolescent self used to love picking on my brothers only to not do enough to get caught. 

These skills have no purpose anymore. I need to devote skills and energy to a self that I can look to in the mirror and admire, love, and respect. It is the small instances in life that can help us learn of who we are and how far away that is from where we want to be. That night, I realized I was miles away from where I wanted to be, but at least I could tell where I was, wasn't what I was happy with. 

Similar to this instance, I talk a lot to myself in regards to my actions. I wrote a book about my struggles with body image concerns. Click Here.