By Bill Levine
About a decade ago, my 88-year-old dad lamented being forced to stop driving. “I should never have stopped driving. It is killing me,” he said. He even fancifully insinuated that my sister had squealed on him to the doctor, who de-licensed him, just so she could appropriate his car.
From the bully pulpit of his corduroy couch, I rebutted dad’s wisdom of voyaging in his Volvo by reminded him that his across hall neighbor was the poster person for tragic senior driving, as she had killed a pedestrian. But after this cautionary speech I still felt sad for him because 70 years of his independence had been siphoned off.
Now I am contemplating buying a new car which just might be my last car, even though I am only 65. I may be off the road before 75 and struggling with a new reduced normal myself. The culprit forcing me off the road will not be incipient dementia or glaucoma. It will be non-verbal learning disorder (NLD), a spatial disability.
If I do have to hang up my key fob in the next few years, I will still proudly acknowledge that I held NLD to a drawer by remaining in good standing on the road for 48 years. Right now, though my wife and two sons, 21 and 24, don’t see me as “in good standing” on the road. In fact, last summer my younger son, Matt insisted that I ride shotgun in my own car because he experienced a near demo derby with me at the wheel. I was not indigent about this request because I have been an uneasy passenger when I’m driving.
For instance, at 16, I started driving lessons and once the lessons migrated to two lanes, the wheel felt unusually clammy. Calibrating the safe time and space window for lane changing seemed overwhelming. I wasn’t very surprised or angry then when the driving instructor said that would need an extra batch of 12 lessons to be road test ready. After all, locomotive independence was not by strong suit. I had only casted off bike training wheels at age nine.
I practiced until I finally felt less endangered to drive my own car, and at 21 I acquired a ’68 Ford Fairlane. Through the Fairlane, Pinto, Previa, and three Corollas I have never inspired confidence or gained total self-confidence as a driver. This is because of too many of the following: missed turns, abrupt stops, interminable looping in public garages, ill-advised lane changing and 5,000 miles driven completely lost.
In 2014, my wife was worried over the prospect of my soloing in the family Highlander SUV for 300 miles to pick up Matt at college. First, she asked that I take a friend with me who could at the least say “watch out.” Then fearing for the Highlander, she espoused that I rent a car for the trip. This didn’t make sense. Was I supposed to go to Enterprise and say, “I need to rent a car in case I crash?” Eventually, I was able to argue for my dignity, if not my driving skills and with some trepidation set the Highlander’s GPS towards Pennsylvania.
Then last year, I had a disturbing conversation with my insurance company. I asked about the impact of committing two fender benders in a calendar year. The customer rep replied in a confidential tone “Normally after two at fault accidents you are put in high risk pool, but since you have been such a long-term customer, we won’t do this.”
I hope that I will not leave my car in the garage indefinitely, while I debate the wisdom of turning in my license. There are a lot of past experiences that I could conjure up to ease the pain of no wheels and spearhead a prompt decision. I survived college for three years without a car when friends where tooling around campus in VW bugs or pink El Dorados. Presumably, my wife would let me warm the passenger seat or If I can somehow figure out the app, Uber could save the day. Still, I imagine that giving up driving involves down shifting that is not easy to execute.
It will be hard to abandon the notion that anyone with a AAA card, one good eye and a GPS can at least drive down the block to get a newspaper, except me. Maybe I will luck out and the driverless car will ramp up sooner than later. Otherwise, I will be faced with the agonizing decision of turning in my ice scraper and old AAA maps. I picture myself as having the strength to do this. If not, my fate will be like the girl in the Beach Boys song in that I will have “fun, fun, fun” until an authoritative relative takes my T-bird or Toyota Corolla or used Hyundai keys.
Bill Levine is a local reader and concerned driver.
Editor’s Notes: AARP has a wonderful FREE safe senior driving class called the CarFit program in collaboration with AAA and several other partners. The class takes about 45 minutes for seniors to drive their cars through several stations to learn about safe driving techniques and tips that seniors may remind them of these refresher methods. Please visit their website at www.car-fit.org to learn about classes in your area.
AARP also has online classes for safe driving at www.aarpdriversafety.org for $20.for members or $25 for non-members. Credit cards are accepted.
In Northern Colorado for seniors and their children, PRO31 Safe Senior Driving offers free classes for senior groups and fee-based services for adult children needing help with their senior parents on driving issues. Contact Jill Couch, MS in Occupational Therapy, at 970-988-9085 or visit her website at www.pro31safeseniordriver.org to learn more!