Sometimes when you hit the wall, you bounce back
It was a Tuesday morning two weeks ago when I drove my car into the wall at the Morgan Family YMCA in Tacoma. The collision made quite a hole in the wall and in my life. My insurance covers the collision, but now that I’ve hit the wall, my whole life has changed permanently.
No one was hurt. The EMTs arrived and they were just thrilled I could remember the name of the President. Everyone was very kind, but as I enjoyed the friendly warmth, I was struck with the realization that I could never drive again.
I loved my blue 2008 Subaru Impreza with a scant 250,000 miles on the odometer. My driver’s license had just been renewed for eight years, and I expected to be driving until I was close to the century mark in age. The ability to get into the car and just go is literally the American Dream. I have to find different dreams now. Happens to us all.
No one in our family had ever owned a car, but by 1950 my Mother had enough money saved to buy a 1941 Ford Tudor Sedan. Bright red, of course. Private cars weren’t built during the war, so this counted as a recent model. In the excitement of acquiring her first car, she had not taken time to learn to drive. So she had the car delivered to the licensing bureau and took her driver’s test sitting in it for the first time.
“Did she pass?” I asked timidly, when she returned from the examination voyage.
“I’m afraid so, “ the examiner said, burying his head in his hands. I think I heard him sob quietly.
My doctor suspected I might have Parkinson’s Disease two years ago, but I didn’t think much about it. It didn’t seem to make any real difference. My Mother always said of such things, “We won’t pin a worry on it,” and I didn’t. Diagnosis was recently confirmed.
On that Tuesday, as the car moved toward the wall, I experienced a “freeze” common to Parkinson’s. I couldn’t move my foot to the brake or even remember what you had to do to make a car stop. I couldn’t take a chance that might happen again. I talked with Jennifer Fox, a physical therapist who evaluates drivers to see if it’s time for them to retire from driving. She’s very firm about using the right term. She doesn’t like to hear “take the keys away” but sometimes, it makes sense to retire from driving.
I’ve developed a mantra whenever something disagreeable happens — which is about every 35 minutes — I say to myself sternly, “You’re 90 years old and you have Parkinson’s! What the (insert expletive of your choice) did you expect?”
Now that I’m retired from driving, I find there are new things I can do. Viktor Frankl said, “If a man has a why to live, the how will take care of itself.” I try to learn something new every day that I didn’t know before — or better yet, teach someone something new. My grandson told me that he was never taught in school how to research important matters, so I’m teaching him to safely and intelligently research the internet. That will take awhile.
My mother had a response for any problem. If it was minor, it was the aforementioned “We won’t pin a worry on it.” If it was just too much to deal with, the response was, “We’ll just draw a curtain of pity over the whole thing.” But if she found herself faced with someone truly recalcitrant, she’d turn a cold look of disdain and say, “Flush him down the toilet!”
Now that’s not very practical, or even hygienic, but I found something nearly as good. Just keep a roll of toilet paper at hand in office or wherever you’re liable to encounter such a person or situation, and write the offenders name down on a sheet or two. You can have a ceremonial flushing a little later. Works fine and you don’t have to call the plumber.
The hole in the wall at the Y has been repaired and spring is here. The birds are singing, and there’s a brave and beautiful fuchsia-colored flower that has worked its way out from under the foundation of my house. I’m sure that means something terrible about the foundation, but it’s gorgeous.
Look, I’m nearly 90 but spring is here and the sun is out. What did you expect? Even when we do hit the wall, the chances are good, we’ll bounce.
Where to find Dorothy in May
Swimming Upstream Radio Show
May 8: “Time to turn in the keys?” with physical therapist Jennifer Fox.
May 15: “Generation Gap” on changes in education for special needs kids with Ray and Kathryn Miller Still.
May 22: “America’s Little Drowned Towns” on the more than 300 towns in the U.S. that have been flooded to build hydroelectric dams.
May 29: “Legendary Black Heroes” with Diedri West, who traces the beginning of the iconic Black Panther Movement.
Find Swimming Upstream at https://swimmingupstreamradioshow.com
Contact Dorothy at 800-548-9264 or Dorothy@swimmingupstreamradioshow.com
