Front Porch: Steering the conversation about aging and driving

When and how do you take away the car keys from someone who shouldn’t be driving anymore? And how do you know when you are the person who shouldn’t be behind the wheel?

I’m an octogenarian, as are most of my friends and acquaintances – though some are younger and two will be 90 this year. We old people have to look out for each other, as well as for the pedestrians and others who may cross our paths out on the roadways.

I find that most of the people I know of my age who drive are still pretty good at it. A little slower maybe and a bit self-restricting when it comes to bad weather, but, all in all, not a hazard to navigation.

And most have pretty good judgment. I have one friend with drop-foot who has voluntarily given up her car. My sister-in-law finds that she now feels uneasy driving on freeways, so she limits herself to driving on local streets to the store, church or on other errands – never during peak travel times. For other driving needs – trips from Wenatchee to Spokane for a visit, for example – her daughter does the driving.

My husband’s night vision isn’t what it used to be, and while he can still drive at night, I’m usually at the wheel after sunset. One friend is the unofficial Uber driver for a group of ladies who need ferrying about from time to time, which more and more means weekly.

We all may be old, but we are mindful and careful, for the most part. Driving is one of the last things that allows us the independence to captain our own ships, so to speak, and not be dependent on others to get around. Out on the roadway, with wheel in hand, we’re just like everyone else going wherever we’re going, not that oldie who limps or who has infirmities or can’t do the stairs or is lesser in some way as a bipedal land animal.

And we can go out for a burger and fries whenever we darn well want to.

But not all of us are doing what we should. I know a woman living in another state, who is the friend of a close friend of mine, who is one of the persons I speak of. She’s had a number of back surgeries and moves about with a walker. That, in and of itself, is not a no-go for driving, but she has increasing difficulty lifting or swiveling her right leg and foot. She lives independently and drives wherever she wants to go.

No one will drive with her any more, which should be a pretty strong signal to her – but it’s not. Recently, while maneuvering into her driveway, she hit the gas when she was aiming for the brake and went through some shrubs and into the side of her neighbor’s car.

Slow speed, no injuries (except to the vehicles). And costly. She decided she needed to go out into the countryside to practice driving. My friend told her that time behind the wheel was not the problem, but she hasn’t been able to say the words that need to be said.

My friend knows how much driving is attached to her friend’s sense of independence, and, frankly, is hoping the son steps up to literally take the keys away. But that’s not happening, and fingers remain crossed that neither she nor anyone else is injured in the meantime.

It’s not unlike letting a friend who has had a drink or two drive home. It will be OK, surely, and we don’t want to embarrass him/her by taking the keys.

It might seem so simple and easy to just do it, to snatch up the keys and tell your fellow old person, as kindly as possible, “no more,” that she’s a danger to herself and others. But telling a lifetime friend that she is no longer capable, that she has become lesser, is not as easy as one might think.

As for our own abilities to drive, we can only hope we’ll recognize for ourselves when the time comes not to drive, or we won’t be so caught up in our sense of independent self that being told can ruin a friendship and bring our egos crashing down. Better that we give permission to a trusted friend – now, while we’re still safe to drive – to speak the truth to us should the time ever come when we’re not.

In our 80s, we’re already losing ground health-wise, mobility-wise and otherwise, including losing our once-firm positions as valuable and contributing members of society. It’s hard to volunteer for one more diminishment in a society that already sees us as expendable. Or to be forcefully “demoted” by a friend.

I maintain that driving in this car-centered culture is a big deal, especially for those of us who grew up in an era when getting a driver’s license was a rite of passage. I’m told it no longer is. But no one has the right to stay on the road with greater risk or likelihood of injuring another person or self or property while clinging to a false notion of capacity or ability.

So we hold our breath and hope someone else will do the deed of taking away the keys. But who wants to be that somebody?

Darn, this getting old business is trickier to navigate than I ever thought it would be … and not just from the driver’s seat.

Voices correspondent Stefanie Pettit can be reached by email at upwindsailor@comcast.net.