My Nani, His “Machine” and Me

Many, many years ago, my Nani taught me how to drive his “machine”. So proudly, he took me for my driver’s license test. I failed. Nani had taught me how to drive — not park! I was totally clueless when asked to parallel park Nani’s “machine”. When the test administrator asked which tire was to be into the curb if I parked on the upside of a hill and which on the downside of a hill, I really demonstrated my ignorance. My reply was that there weren’t any hills in Chicago, so how should I know.

Nani was absolutely dishonored when the test facilitator announced I failed. His old school Italian pride was disgraced. To this day I can hear Nani firmly informing the judge, who questioned my lack of talent, that it was a DRIVING test not a PARKING test.

For a week Nani and I lived at the local Sears parking lot. He set up barrels to mark where I was to park. After a couple of days, I stopped treating them as bowling pins and somehow wiggled Nani’s “machine” into the space between them.

On day seven, Nani declared our family name was ready to be restored. He drove me up to the designated area, where those to be tested were to meet their evaluator. I slowly popped out of the passenger’s seat and crept around to the driver’s side. (Nani seemed far more confident than I.) As I was getting into the “machine”, I noticed Nani had placed a ten-dollar bill on the passenger’s seat, where my umpire would call my fate. May I simply say the year was 1963, and a “sawbuck” was BIG money. I snatched that bribe off that seat! My name was not going to be labeled illegal kick backer!

After I demonstrated my newly acquired parking skills, I categorically declared (before the question was even asked) parking uphill, back tire into curb; parking downhill, front tire into curb.

When the verdict was in, I passed!!! Having been decreed driver’s license qualified, Nani shook the official’s hand. I’m quite sure the man was caught off guard and wondered why Nani winked at him.

Once back inside the car, I handed Nani his “Alexander Hamilton” and told him I might have failed my driver’s test the first time; but the moral code he helped instill in me, I was determined to try and never fail. Nani remorsefully added that he’d never again fail me either. With great love in my heart, I told Nani he had to remember he taught me much more than how to drive his “machine”. He had instilled deep in my heart that neither he, nor anyone else, could give me my dreams. I, ‘soul’y, had to work and fight for them. We hugged, stopped for a celebratory ice cream cone and then Nani drove his “machine” and me back home.

My Nani was a towering figure in my life. From the time I was a chubby little girl, he continually encouraged me to always follow my dreams. Whenever I shared my dreams with my Nani, he’d always ask if they would make me happy. With all my heart and soul, I’d answer a great big YES; and he’d instruct me then to believe and work, work, work, and then work some more to make my dreams come true.

Now more than six decades later, I still love and appreciate my Nani. He taught me so much more than how to drive. He engraved in me the truth that everyone makes mistakes; but they can be rectified, forgiven and never repeated. Above all, my dreams are to be pursued — not given to me. Most importantly, when my dreams come true, they should make me happy on the inside over rich on the outside.

I truly believe one of the greatest threats of the 21st Century is that the vast majority of children do not have a Nani in their lives. They have fancy and fast cars to drive but simply no Nani to teach them how to steer their journey up the mountains and down through the valleys of life.

Nani, his “machine” and my driving license saga taught me early on about life’s greatest blessings. That day, on which I took my first driver’s test, did not teach me about failing. Its lesson was what it takes to succeed.