MOMMA'S DRIVING ME CRAZY, IT'S A SHORT DRIVE

Two elderly Vernon ladies were going to church in a 1975 Buick LeSabre, neither one could see over the dashboard. Maude thought to herself, "I could have sworn we just went through a red light!" They came to the courthouse intersection. This time, the passenger was almost sure that the light had been red. She was getting nervous and decided to pay very close attention. At the Jack's intersection, sure enough, the light was definitely red and they went right through it. She turned to the other woman and said, "Mildred! Did you know we just ran through three red lights in a row? You could have killed us!" Mildred turned to her and said, "Oh My Gosh!! Am I driving?"

 

 When to take away Momma's or Daddy's car keys is a big question.

"I'm sure gettin' old!", said Grandma.

 

"I've got cataracts so I am half blind. My hearing aid batteries are dead and I can't afford to get more. I take about 100 different pills that make me sleepy, dizzy, and make me have fainting spells. Sometimes I get lost and don't know where I am. I can't feel my hands and feet anymore. My pacemaker is the only thing that keeps my heart beating. My diabetes flares up when I don't eat right."

 

"But thank the Lord, I've still got my Alabama drivers license."

 

This scene depicts some of the issues. In my mind, I somehow relate it to the fact that the state of Iowa issues pistol permits to blind folks.

But you know, many of us will struggle with this ourselves. An automobile represents independence. To lose our ability to drive is one of the first steps to the nursing home. It is understandable why some seniors resist and live in denial about their ability to drive. If you wake up one morning and you look like the picture on your drivers license, then you may be too old to drive.

In the old days, cars were not that important. There were horses, mules, and your own work shoes. The following story depicts my mother's struggle with learning to drive late in life.

 

My mother, Pauline, became a widow at age 47. She had lived her life under old world rules; in which driving was a male thing and being chauffeured around was a woman's privilege. But now, her economic situation demanded that she make extra income. She had gotten a job as a nurse's assistant at the nursing home. She sometimes hitched a ride with coworkers or walked when no ride was available.

This became too much, so she bought an old Pontiac through her brother-in-law Floyd. It sat in the front yard for a few days because she was afraid to drive it. Finally, she got up the nerve to get in and crank it up. She drove to the store a few hundred yards away, going 10 mph and putting on the brake every few yards. "She's going about as fast as the slow train to Arkansas," Della Bee said as she looked out the store window. The next day she drove to the Piney Grove church house.The next day she ventured to her Momma's house a mile up the gravel road.She would not venture on to the paved roads without help from someone else.

One weekend, Pauline had enough experience that she was venturing out further from home.She asked me if I would go with her to Fellowship Cemetery to put some flowers on Denmon's grave. Pauline held the steering wheel tight with two hands. She would get up to almost 35 mph, and then she would let off on the accelerator until she was going 25 miles an hour. We finally made it to Rex Frank' s homeplace.Shortly we were at the turn off to Fellowship church. Pauline held the steering wheel at the 10 o'clock and the 2 o'clock position.The road was slightly downhill, there was a sharp right hand turn, and there was a deep ravine on the other side covered in briars and bushes."Okay Momma, start putting on the brake." Pauline slowed and turned the wheel a fraction of a turn, she was still pointed toward the ravine.She turned the wheel another fraction of a turn, she was still on track to crash into the briar patch."Stop," I said, "You're going off the road." Pauline slammed on the brake throwing me toward the dashboard.We sat there breathing hard for a few seconds. Pauline backed up and slowly turned until she was on the Fellowship Road. I thought, "I'll always wear clean underwear when I'm riding with her. Landing up in the emergency room is a real good possibility."

A few weeks later, Pauline went to take her driving license test. She passed the written test but then they checked her eyes. The examiner told her that she could not take her driving test until she got new glasses. She went home disappointed. She told people that she was going to Winfield to get new glasses, however, she never did.

She continued driving to work and running errands until she finally voluntarily gave up in her seventies, but she never did manage to get her driver's license. She was confident that the police and sheriff would not give her a ticket. She never had an accident because she always kept one eye on the car in front, one eye on people crossing the road, and one eye on cars behind her.

Where are you with this issue?