Self-Centered

It’s been about three years since I started this blog, which has been entirely self-centered. Centered on me, my feelings, my actions, my delights, and my adventures. So be it.

Today’s entry is emphatically that, self-centered. My focus is entirely on me today, especially on one particular circumstance. In five weeks, I will no longer drive. I’m not going to give up my license, in case I need to drive my husband in an emergency situation, but, I’m going to sell my car and no longer drive myself to the myriad of events I currently attend. Why? During the past year, I have had two small automobile accidents, fender crunches. I’ve just learned from my insurance company that to continue my insurance will cost about $7000 per year. I am able to pay that premium, though not fond of the idea; however, I take this as an indicator that it’s time for me to stop driving.

I have been aware of a change in my attention while driving. And also, because of a recent and excellent AARP-sponsored driving class for seniors, I am aware of the sharp increase in fatalities as drivers age from their seventies to eighties. I am 77 years old. I don’t like it, but I think it’s my turn to stop driving.

I am not taking this change lightly, but knowingly, recognizing the dramatic change it will make in my life. How can I plan for it? Here are my thoughts on the subject right now, subject to change as the reality sets in. First, I will avail myself of the ‘other driver’ options available to me, such as Uber, Lyft, Beverly’s Council on Aging, and the Salem Skipper, now available in Beverly. The commuter rail will work for some occasions, as it does now. Fortunately, my husband is supportive, as usual, and can be counted on as a chauffeur, not for all of my desires, but certainly for my needs.

I may begin to have my medications delivered, rather than pick them up, as I do now. As I’m a heavy user of the Beverly Public Library, I’m likely to get to know the Bookmobile, remembering how much my mother appreciated it in her later years. My son has offered to visit regularly and take me to lunch, replacing our meeting in various places. And, some friends have already offered to pick me up occasionally. (Thank you, Sandra, Jenn, and Sasha!)

I will sell my pampered car, an electric 2021 Mini Cooper, British racing green with 40,000 miles and a range of 100-120 miles at the end of August. In its place, I am in the market for an electric bicycle. If you have any recommendations, based on your personal experience, please let me know. (Thank you, Diane!)

What am I giving up? On one level, it’s about my personal freedom, my ability to run out to the grocery store or for a bagel, just because I feel like it, or a manicure, or respond to a call from a friend. On another level, it’s the ease of attending many community service meetings: these include the Human Rights Committee, city council meetings, book discussion groups, the local and New England Quaker gatherings that I cherish, and, of course, the climate and social justice protests. As I write it down, it all feels so logical and not-a-big-deal, but it feels as if I’m about to give up a leg or an arm, some essential part of myself.

In my heart, I know it’s about increased awareness of my personal diminishment, my movement to my end, an entirely natural path. I’m not the first. It’s not entirely a surprise, yet, still, it feels like a shock.

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