About 2 months ago I approached my car in the parking lot after work, and noticed a large white mark (about 4 inches long) on my rock slider (a bar along the bottom sides of my car to, well, make it slide over rocks instead of get stuck on them). This made me think of elderly people who drive around town bumping into things, which made me think of Gan.
She has gotten progressively worse over the past year. Every time we see her in her 1997 white Lincoln Town Car, the car of choice for the elderly along with Buicks, there is a new bump or dent. When you ask her about it, she claims someone either bumped into her at WalMart or it just "appeared" while she was shopping in WalMart. Once the front grill was ever-so-slightly pushed underneath the hood. She had no explanation for this. One can only imagine the true story.
One day while visiting Ganny at her retirement apartments, we were riding in the elevator with one of her neighbors. After casual introductions he asked Ganny, "Did that guy ever find you and talk to you?" to which Gan replied, "What guy?"
"That guy who said you hit his car. You drive that white Lincoln don't you?" I looked at the floor. "I didn't hit anybody. I don't know what that guy was talking about." We exited the elevator and headed for her room. "Everybody thinks I hit that car, but I didn't."
It was too much. I had been concerned about her driving anyway, but at this, I broke down and began to sob. How do you tell someone they shouldn't drive anymore? How do you tell your grandmother she's hitting things and doesn't even know it and I have to stop her before someone sues her or assaults her?
She hugged me and said, "Oh darlin' what is it?" We sat down in her Lazyboys and I tried to explain it with as much tact as possible. "You know I care about you and only do what's best for you, always." She trusts me completely and for good reason. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I take good care of her i.e. this blog :).
"I'm so worried about you Gan. You're hitting things and don't even realize it. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you. I just don't know if you should be driving anymore. I'm worried someone's gonna be mean to you if you...make a mistake. You told me a long time ago that I would have to do this Gan. You told me I would have to watch out for you when you got older" I rambled. I tried to emphasize my concern for her welfare and not her diminished abilities.
She seemed surprised at first, insisting on evidence of these accusations, but eventually she developed some acceptance and said she would try to take one of us with her when she went on doctor's visits, to the bank, or anything else more than a mile away. I didn't want her to drive at all since her forte seemed to be low-speed accidents in parking lots, but I would take what I could get.
Well, over the next few weeks, she pretty much went back to driving anywhere and everywhere she wanted. I was weak, because it is so much easier to meet her for lunch rather than make the 45-minute drive to her apartment to pick her up, so I didn't fight it too much. She tells me she's doing better, being more careful, etc. and as best I can tell, she is - no new dents lately.
Recently I let my friend drive my car and he mentioned the white mark. "Hit the garage on your way out?" he asked. "No," I laughed. "Someone hit me in the parking lot at work." As the statement came out I recognized the familiar response - that of Gan. "Oh, are you your grandmother now?" he teased. "I think I would know if I hit something, wouldn't I?" we laughed and moved on.
When I got home, I noticed a large black smudge on the side of the garage...
