WARNING: Horn you may hear is being tooted by this old driver Question: What is more bothersome than an old geezer slowly inching into traffic in front of you? Answer: Being the old geezer.
Yesterday I practiced, with B in the passenger seat, driving the highway from my NEW doctor’s office in Ann Arbor to the lovely alley behind our house in Adrian. No one was hurt. This drive was momentous enough for BOTH of us to mention it on facebook. No red lights were run; no vehicles were sideswiped; no curbs got in my way; I barely cringed when oncoming traffic sped by inches away. I felt like a student driver except for the invulnerability. I felt mortal, in a big way.
Other things have changed. When I see someone seemingly DWE (Driving while elderly) gone are any pangs of anger, instead there is a feeling of connection and a prayer of support. I have not become an sainted angel. The same old furor has simply been transfered to tailgaters, passers who ignore yellow lines and those who refuse to take notice of blinking school buses. “He’s just in a holy hurry” I mutter or “She must be so much more important than the rest of us”. Maybe it’s the effect of IEED or just another sign of age but I do not suffer the ways of bad drivers lightly.
Early this morning, with Brian following in the Honda behind me, I drove back to the area to have my blood drawn. Both the dogs were in my car. This increased the sense of accountability. If I crashed so did they. Brian followed me all the way to the hospital. There I walked in, like many times before, for a simple draw to test for various things my new doctor might find interesting. I made my way to the lab passing the Emergency room. I glanced and at the gurneys and the IVs and the antiseptic halls. Unexpectedly I shuddered. 3 weeks of forgotten incarceration came flooding back. Another silent prayer came to my head, all those people, all that pain, countless people offering aid. Help them.
I strode on. I became fully aware I was walking; no wheelchair, no walker, not even a cane. I was never as happy to go into the lab and chatter with the techs. If they had asked I would have gladly filled many more vials. I finished and got back into the car. The grrls were waiting. I was back in Adrian before I had a chance to get nervous. I was driving highway solo. 
By 8:45 AM I had gone over 55 mile. I was following a slow going vintage pickup, an aqua and white Corvair, past our local 1885 courthouse.
I was happy.
- - - David
1 comment:
If the change in your frame of mind is due to old age then call me an antique. I don't know if it's the relocation or that I am indeed growing old far beyond my time, but I find myself thinking from the perspective of another before making a judgment. Instead of assuming that someone is being an inconsiderate jerk, I think about how I felt trying to get to the hospital before my grandma passed away. When the people in front of me at the grocery store are taking forever, I think that maybe they're trying to spend their last $20 for the next 2 weeks in the most efficient way possible because they want to make sure they can feed their family.
I can't believe that people are rude or inconsiderate intentionally. While some people just don't think or don't know any better, I think most people are just trying to get by and might be having a bad day. If this is what old age brings, I say screw my youth. I'm much happier and more Zen now. :)
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