Yesterday I had a revelation.

I grew up living in town but both my parents had grown up on farms. And all through growing up we had a little car that was a stick shift transmission.

I remember telling my dad that I wasn’t going to drive a stick shift! But the day came when I went to the court house and passed my test and got my learners permit.

On the way home dad and I went back and forth. He wanted me to drive. I did not! I was afraid of that thing.

Afraid of killing it in the middle of the road. Afraid of those deep ditches! And afraid of failing. You know… sitting there, with cars waiting behind you, while you figure it out.

I’d witnessed the choking, sputtering, and gasping that car could make when you were in the wrong gear or shifted too soon or dropped the clutch. (All thanks to my older sister, haha)

Mom finally convinced me to try it, behind our house, in the County Fairgrounds. They had paths surrounded by grass that wouldn’t mind if I strayed from the road… and no ditches!!! But it did have trees. Lots of trees.

There I learned just how much there was to learn to drive a stick shift. Not only did you have to watch where you were going, you had to use the clutch AND find a gear – the right gear – and stay on the road with all of that distraction. It seemed like an awful lot to ask for a new driver.

But… after I figured out that you have to finesse the clutch, I learned to enjoy driving that stick shift. I enjoyed the challenge of doing five things at once.

I got that lesson all over again when I started dating Dan. I would ride with him in the tractor and it wasn’t long before he had asked if I thought I could drive a tractor?

I was like “I learned to drive on a stick shift! NO problem!”

And as he showed me how to drive that tractor I had felt proud. I was proud that I halfway knew what I was doing.

I secretly thanked God that I didn’t have a choice when I learned to drive. I had only one choice… a stick shift.

So yesterday, when I climbed in the little car we had offered to deliver to a friend from the mechanic shop, I laughed out loud. I actually sat there for a minute… giggling.

I hadn’t realized that all the times he had stopped at our place, that that little car was a stick shift! And as I put the key in the ignition, pushed in the clutch, and figured out that for reverse, this little car had a ring you had to pull up on the stick, I giggled.

I pulled up to my husband in our truck… still giggling! And he was like “What’s so funny? What’s wrong?”

And I giggled “Do you know how long it’s been since I drove a stick shift anywhere?????”

He smiled and asked if I’d be alright and I said “Yep! I got this!”

I took off and I think I smiled the whole ten miles to his house.

I remembered what it was like to learn to drive one of these… I remembered my dad, now gone, trying to persuade me to drive… I remember that shortly after mom taught me how, I had refused to drive home from my aunt and uncles because I was afraid of backing into the ditch across from their driveway…

And I realized how important learning how to drive a stick shift has helped me on the farm. I use a clutch every day and I think I’ve improved a lot with the many levels of farming I have learned through.

You know, like how to pull a full chopper box without killing it on a hill… Or how to shift down, turn around, shift up and full speed ahead (all without taking out the fence!) when I’m chiseling… Or how you don’t kill your husband when you’re backing up ever so carefully to line up the two holes in the hitches while he stands between the tractor and the whatever it is you’re hooking up!

Now that folks, takes some concentration! And good clutch control!

So in my revelation yesterday I realized how thankful I am to my parents and my husband for teaching me a skill not everyone has, and how proud I am that I am one of those people who can jump into almost any vehicle and say “Yep! I got this!”