Less than a year after meeting my boyfriend, the engine of my Suburu (otherwise known as a rice burner by my boyfriend) blew a gasket. Dark smoke would pour out of the exhaust regularly. At the neighborhood gas station I would turn off the engine when the attendant filled it up. Inevitably the car wouldn’t start so the attendant would push the car and I would pop the clutch and Voila! I would drive the car away with black smoke billowing behind me. I am pretty sure my boyfriend taught me to do that.
My boyfriend was handy with tools and knew a lot about mechanical stuff. At the time he was studying to become an electrical engineer. I was a young struggling college student. He saw an opportunity to help me and also to explore how the Japanese had put this car together so he offered to rebuild my engine (of my car that is). To top it off he let me borrow his car over the weekend while he did it. Needless to say he fixed it and the car lasted another seven years when it was driven to the junk yard only because the body was rusted out.
That boyfriend became my husband and I am writing this slice to remind myself how fortunate I am to have a man like that. He pulled in the driveway tonight after a long day and an hour commute and I told him I pressed the automatic window on the driver’s side of my car and lo and behold the window would not come back up. Just a lot of whirring noises. I gave him some dinner and he got on some jeans and now he is outside looking at the window as dusk begins to fall.
My entire family has been the beneficiary of my husband’s knowledge of electronics and computers. He is the go to guy when something is not working. He is always willing to come to my aid and I know sometimes I take him for granted. That is what is so great about writing. It helps me to pause and stop to appreciate what life has given me!