Be a Little Kinder

My birthday isn’t until May but it resembles a small bonfire. I actually quit counting a long time ago. It is what it is. But today I'm writing about old age and it has nothing to do with sports.


One day this week, I had a car that stopped in front of me on a busy road. At first, I thought it was car trouble and then I considered the possibility of a medical emergency. So when I got a chance, I pulled up alongside the vehicle to see if it was someone needing help.


When I got even with the car, I could see an older fellow that appeared quite confused. I don’t think he knew where he was going. He then started moving forward and so I dropped behind him and followed him for a bit.


He soon turned into a parking lot, parked, got out of his car and walked into a store. He seemed fine. I drove on.


How many times have you been behind someone that did something similar? How many times have you been behind a vehicle that you thought was moving too slow and then, when you passed them, saw an older person? Did you think to yourself “they’re too old to be driving” as you passed by?


Yeah. Me too. And I’m probably a lot closer to their age than I am to yours. But those thoughts have crossed my mind more than once.


Back when I was in high school, I bagged groceries at the grocery store in my home town. It was mostly Saturdays. I remember vividly these old ladies coming to the grocery store on Saturday morning, usually right after their hair appointment. I can remember great big cars and little tiny women that seemed barely able to look over the steering wheel.


For most of them, that was the only time that they got out of the house. That car and the ability to drive themselves gave them an independence that they didn’t want to let go of. They were at an age when we would consider most of them too old to drive.


I can remember when I had to discuss with my dad that he shouldn’t drive anymore. It didn’t go too bad since he still had my mom to drive around. But when it came time to end my mom’s driving…oh, my goodness. She did not take it well.


I had told her that I would agree to allow her to continue driving until she had her second fender bender. Well, she had that one day but vigorously defended her driving. She argued that they must have moved that light pole in the church parking lot, otherwise she would have never hit it.


Even in her latest days, when dementia stole much of her memory, she would insist that she was perfectly capable of driving. For your safety and mine, it wasn’t happening.


My point today? Show a little kindness. Losing the freedom that comes from being able to drive yourself to appointments, to the grocery store, to visit friends, has got to be devastating. As a son, it was hard for me to take away those privileges.


I am not arguing that someone that isn’t safe should still be driving. I’m encouraging everyone to show a little patience on the road. If they’re going slower than you want them to, be kind. If they aren’t dangerous, let them keep driving.