This weekend I took my elderly mom driving. She hasn’t driven her car since she was hospitalized with covid back in March, and she needed the practice.
At first, it was just what you’d picture with a new driver: first finding a deserted parking lot, switching drivers, the tentative gas pedal, unsure steering. Finally she got her confidence and was driving around the roads like an old pro. (Pun intended.)
As with so many situations of these past few months, it was surreal to be in the passenger seat of this equation. It was just a few years ago that I was the new driver, and my mom was white-knuckling her way through deserted parking lots, hoping her teenager didn’t hit something. (I didn’t. I was a great driver.)
There is a strength and a humility in growing elderly. I imagine it’s not easy to surrender to all the things that you need help with- having your kid help you drive, help you grocery shop, help with your bills. My mother is someone who has always had pride in her independence. After all, she was a single mom and did everything herself. Now it’s my turn. And I hope that I’ll have the same strength when I grow old.
Autumn's Writing 