Tag: Field notes

We were about three miles from home when the tire went flat.

I had just picked my wife up from work, and we were heading back after what was supposed to be a mild snowstorm. The forecast said two to four inches. Minnesota, apparently, had other plans. By the time we were driving home, we were sitting closer to eight or ten.

I pulled over on the side of a country road while my wife hopped out to check the damage. Two puncture holes. Not exactly something you can wish away.

First call was to our neighbor. He wasn’t home — out plowing snow and booked solid for a couple more hours. Fair enough. My wife checked for the spare but looked in the wrong spot, so at that point we thought we didn’t have one. AAA said a tow truck could get to us in about two hours. They were busy pulling people out of ditches.

And that’s when the practical reality hit me.

If the car got towed… I was going to have to climb up into the truck cab.

And I couldn’t.

So I called my neighbor back and explained the situation. Told him it might be a few hours. And then — the part that stuck in my throat for a second — I said plainly that I wouldn’t be able to get into the tow truck because I’m disabled.

He paused.

Then said quietly “oh.”

And honestly? That made sense. This is someone I grew up with. Someone who has seen me in my pajamas more times than I can count on my fingers. 😂 For nearly twenty years, I’ve always had some kind of explanation ready when my crutches came up — something temporary-sounding, something easier than the full truth.

Old habits run deep.

He offered to have his son come get us. I told him I wanted to check what AAA could do first and that I’d keep him posted.

After that, there wasn’t much to do but wait.

So we did what you do when you’re stranded on a snowy roadside in Minnesota — we settled in and started working through the leftover Valentine’s chocolate like it was part of the emergency plan.

A woman pulled over and asked if we needed help. We thanked her and told her we were okay. Not long after, another man stopped and offered us a ride somewhere warm. We declined again, grateful but managing.

Then about fifteen minutes later, another SUV pulled up.

Turns out his wife was the one who had offered us snacks — and she had apparently sent him back on a mission. 😂

He found the spare tire (in the correct spot, bless him) and had it swapped out in no time. I offered to pay him. He refused. My wife handed him some car wash books we had in the car, and after a polite back-and-forth, he finally accepted.

He even followed us for a couple of miles just to make sure we made it safely down the road.

By the time we got home — truly home — something in my chest had shifted.

Not because the moment itself was easy. It wasn’t. Old voices were loud for a minute there — the ones that say don’t look weak, don’t show it, don’t let people see where it hurts.

But sitting there in the quiet afterward, I realized something I hadn’t expected.

For the first time in almost twenty years…I wasn’t trying to keep track of the story anymore.

And it turns out, that weighs a lot less.