Glum Today

Today, I am feeling glum, and along with it, guilty, because I don’t want to feel glum, plus I don’t think I should be feeling glum. I want to be cheerful or at least have some motivation for something good. I understand why I’m feeling this way. I’m only going to be driving for another few days, then giving up driving forever. It’s my choice and it’s clear to me that it’s the right decision. Nevertheless, it’s sad to be at this point in my life when I’m doing some things for the very last time.

We celebrate a baby’s first steps, the first day of school, the new driver’s license, and more. What about the last of any actions? Mostly, we’re not really aware of it. I could be thinking of this as good fortune, that I recognize this in terms of being the last time I’ll take this action. I actually have so much to be excited about, especially that the person buying my car is someone I love dearly, another Quaker with whom i share mutual admiration.

I’ve also had the pleasure of learning and beginning use of ride-share apps, including Lyft and Uber, plus Salem Skipper and CATA for local rides. I feel excitement about these new ‘utilities’ in my life and am aware of the privilege of my accessibility to them. No, it’s not the same as hopping into my own car whenever I want, with minimal planning. It’s ironic that, as I feel the beginning diminishment of my mental capacity to take in multiple threads of information, then braid them together quickly, that I must add this new challenge of planning my transportation in advance, allowing extra time for pick-up, plus identifying exact locations for both pick-up and drop-off.

It’s not quite the same excitement as planning an overseas trip to Egypt or Bali, though it has a few similar features, in the details.

This is, indeed, the last car that I will ever own and sell. I thought that my previous car might be my last. It was also a Mini Cooper. Then, when my friend, Denny, alerted me that Mini was offering an electric version, I immediately ordered one! It was exciting to experience the learning curve of driving electric, though sometimes not a happy experience for Paul, who really disliked stopping to recharge on lengthy trips. It usually seemed like an adventure to me.

I’m remembering once, in the Brattleboro, Vermont area, when we found a charging station downtown, that we put to good use while we meandered through the quaint area and stopped for lunch. It was a delight!

So, now I’m not feeling so sorry for myself. It’s funny how remembering past delights, even while being conscious that they will never happen in my life again, can be uplifting. This time of recognizing a ‘last time,’ can also be a time of honoring.

What am I honoring? I’m honoring the many times I’ve gotten into my car, picked up another, driven to a friend’s house, to the beach, out for a bagel or lunch, a grocery store or a protest, gone to a conference, a retreat, or someplace for vacation, even if only for a few days, met my son for lunch, or gone for a foliage trip through New Hampshire. Every one of those times was a gift, maybe not wrapped, but fully enjoyed and appreciated. I honor every one of those excursions and I honor myself for recognizing that that was then and this is now.

So, the river of time is moving me with it, onwards. I will be ready for whatever is ahead and, for now, I am no longer glum.