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Reflections November 2013

Laverne's View

Merrily He Rolled Along

By Laverne Bardy

I will never give up my license; not without a knock-down drag-out battle. To hand over one’s license is to surrender every last morsel of independence. I intend to drive to my own funeral, and have my car buried beside me.

I was traveling behind a long line of cars, all stopped and waiting for the traffic light to turn green, when a car coming from the other direction looked like he might intend to make a left turn directly in front of me.

I had a fleeting awareness that there was only about four feet between my car and the car in front of me, but at the pace the oncoming car was crawling, he had to have seen that, too.

He drove slowly and purposefully. All cars were stopped. No one was going anywhere. He turned his steering wheel, nonchalantly, like someone turning into his own driveway. And as he did, I had an uneasy feeling.

The driver did not appear to see my large red Chrysler 300, that was only inches from him.

And then the unthinkable happened. I sat slack-jawed as he casually smashed into my driver’s side front bumper.

I immediately checked my mirror to see if I was invisible.

Realizing that I absolutely was not, I became furious.

This wasn’t a reckless, fast-moving, uncontrollable accident. It all happened with precision, slow motion movement.

By nature, I am easy going, empathetic, and understanding. I’ve been in other accidents and I’ve never lost my temper. This time was different. This accident was absurd. This driver was, without a shred of doubt, a moron.

I prepared to come out swinging.

I prepared to ask this guy what the hell he was thinking? Was he blind? Was he on drugs? But he exited his car first, and what I saw was a 90-year-old man, hunched over and shuffling toward me.

"I couldn't be more sorry,” he said. “I'm so, so sorry.”

He begged my forgiveness. He was sweet. He was full of remorse.

One look at his bowed, weathered body and my anger vanished. I was tempted to apologize for interrupting his turn.

There is no doubt that this man should not have been driving. He was a danger to others and to himself, as well.

But I understood why he was driving.

I will never give up my license; not without a knock-down drag-out battle. To hand over one’s license is to surrender every last morsel of independence. I intend to drive to my own funeral, and have my car buried beside me.

I phoned my husband, who showed up in minutes, since I was only seven miles from home. Then I called the police.

After exchanging information and being assigned a case number, I followed my husband to our preferred car repair shop where Billy, our mechanic, was speaking with a customer. He paused long enough to introduce us as his favorite customers – a dubious honor I could have lived without.

"I recall the last time you were here you told me you never wanted to see my face again,” Billy laughed.

“And, I meant it,” I said. “But, this time I’ve brought you a different car. It’s newer, and shinier than my last one.”

He gave us an estimate for $2,500 that we, of course, were not responsible for.

I can't shake my sadness for 90-year-old William Collins, whose address indicated that he lived in the same independent living facility that my husband and I perused a few months earlier…for future reference. His auto insurance rates will skyrocket, if he is even allowed to keep his license.

The thought of being forced to give up driving is terrifying. Moving to a city would offer easy access to shops, parks, and buses and eliminate the need to drive. But, I hate the tumult of city living, and I’ve never driven out of need. Driving, for me, has always been a pleasurable hobby.

I will try not to concern myself with this looming possibility. Instead, I will rationalize that I will be fine because I live in the country, where there are few cars and rarely a pedestrian –  although I could still be a threat to turkey vultures feasting on that day’s road kill.

 

Laverne's book, "How The (Bleep) Did I Get This Old?" is available at amazon.com and other online bookstores. Website: www.lavernebardy.com - E-mail her at: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

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