I think one of the most terrifying moments of my life happened during my childhood when my mother drove me home from my grandmother's house one night. My grandmother watched me during the day while my Mom was at work. One night she was very late coming by to pick me up -- hours late. When she did finally arrive, she was drunk. My grandmother pleaded with her to stay for the night, but she insisted on going home and taking me with her. The drive home was a nightmare, and I truly thought we were going to die: she was weaving all over the road, and very nearly ran head-on into oncoming traffic more than once. At last, a police officer pulled her over. At that moment, I realized: my mother could act irresponsibly, even childishly, and had put both me and herself in incredible danger. She didn't do it out of spite or malice. She did it out of thoughtlessness and a misplaced sense of her own ability to handle the situation.
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