Thursday, July 9, 2009

It's Always Something

So less than one week after enjoying a banner July 4th, very old Mom had a terrible day today. She got confused while backing out of a parking space in a strip center, gunned the accelerator, and drove in a 500 foot radius circle at high speed. She hit one parked car so hard that it moved into the adjacent space. She then clipped another vehicle before stopping.

The Palm Beach Deputy I spoke to said that had there been any pedestrians in the area, we'd be dealing with multiple fatalities. Fortunately no one was hurt. The Deputy took her license. I told him it was a permanent suspension...

Mom accepted that her driving days are over, but is still resisting the fact that she'll need an aide now. I'm thinking that a few attempts at grocery shopping on the bus will change her mind...

So, time keeps flowing like a river. People age. Babies are born.

Wifey, D1 and D2 and I are heading to Palm Beach for the weekend. D1's boyfriend is meeting us. Now we'll detour to Delray to retrieve the wrecked car, to await its trip to the insurance company and then junk yard.

To borrow from Arthur Miller's famous use of the passive voice: perspective must be kept. My friend and neighbor Charlie called today to tell me about a medical malpractice defense lawyer I know pretty well who was diagnosed with terminal brain/lung cancer. He quit his practice and will probably be on this planet less than another year.

D1's sorority sister's father died Monday, after a 14 month course of brain cancer, too. Victor was a great guy --we got to know each other over a family weekend at UF. He was 58.

So, my mother has already stayed ahead of the Reaper for a long time. We're thankful for that.

TOmorrow I plan to look out at the Atlantic and sigh. I'll tell my father what happened to his wife.

And then I plan to savor my family's togetherness, and keep up my fight against the petty, against the false drama, against the "small stuff."

And, while I'm in parking lots in Palm Beach County, with all of their octogenerian drivers, I plan to walk carefully.

1 comment:

susanhopkins said...

Shakespeare:
" Once an adult, twice a child" or something like that.
Sue