Dad’s illness wreaked havoc, but we learned to bond behind the wheel

Dad’s illness(ˈilnis) wreaked(rēk) havoc(ˈhavək), but we learned to bond(bänd) behind the wheel((h)wēl)

By Justin Mah

“Let’s get you out on the road,” suggests my father, casually(ˈkaZHo͞oəl), over green tea one lazy afternoon. By happenstance(ˈhapənˌstans), he had recently acquired(əˈkwī(ə)r) a late nineties, tan-coloured Toyota Corolla(kəˈrälə,kəˈrōlə).

The offer, in the moment, catches me off guard and awakens long buried(ˈberē) insecurity(ˌinsiˈkyo͝oriti), then a cascade(kasˈkād) of nagging(ˈnagiNG) self-talk: of being inferior(inˈfi(ə)rēər), less than, not yet fully an adult. Living in Vancouver(vanˈko͞ovər), I never learned how to drive. For car trips(trip), I’d compensated(ˈkämpənˌsāt) throughout the years by acting as “road-trip navigator(ˈnaviˌgātər)” and would return the kindness by delivering(diˈlivər) a well-cooked meal – the one adult skill I managed to hone(hōn) in my teenage(ˈtēnˌāj) years being the eldest(ˈeldəst) of three siblings(ˈsibliNG) in a single-parent home.

In a few months, I’d be turning 35. It was January(ˈjanyo͞oˌerē), the dead of winter and, like the skeletal(ˈskelətl)-looking cherry trees lining(ˈlīniNG) my neighbourhood, I, too, felt made bare(be(ə)r). Not only did I not know how to drive, but my romantic relationship had unexpectedly severed and a stable, well-paying job had been recently shed(SHed).

Such ups-and-downs are hardly unique(yo͞oˈnēk) and my father, for one, has certainly encountered his fair share. As a second-generation Chinese kid, he faced discrimination(disˌkriməˈnāSHən) and was raised by parents who, in their own personal turbulence(ˈtərbyələns) and neglectfulness(niˈglektfəl), left their children emotionally(iˈmōSHənəl) ill-equipped(iˈkwip) for the road ahead. As he light-heartedly tells it, my father taught himself to drive on the sly(slī) when he was 19 and drove himself to his driving test with an injured(ˈinjərd) left hand, arm cast(kast) clearly visible. Years later, divorce(diˈvôrs) followed by incapacitating(ˌinkəˈpasiˌtāt) mental(ˈmentl) illness wreaked havoc in his and all of our lives. I was the oldest, I learned to be resilient(riˈzilyənt). The motto(ˈmätō) my father instilled(inˈstil) before his illness – “Slow and steady(ˈstedē) wins the race” – were words I hung(həNG) onto in his absence(ˈabsəns).

I was hesitant(ˈhezitənt) to get behind the wheel, but it was time. “Let’s hit the road!” I agreed.

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https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/first-person/article-dads-illness-wreaked-havoc-but-we-learned-to-bond-behind-the-wheel/