I renewed my driver's license today ... did it by mail ... easy as pie.
Karen will have a fit when she finds out. She's been waiting anxiously for my 80th birthday to mark the end of this current license I've been hanging onto so tightly.
Today, the long-awaited notice arrived. Tennessee department of safety informed me my license would expire in June.
sad. sad. sad.
Oh, but the very next paragraph filled my heart with joy. I could renew by mail. Only twenty-eight bucks and I'd be good to go. I wrote the check quick as a wink ... grinning like an idiot with every stroke of the pen ... signed on the dotted line, sealed that envelope and headed straight for the out-going mailbox ... fast as my faithful walker could take me.
Done!
Karen will soon be demanding to know why I did such a thing ... She'll have that patient tone of voice going ... the one adult children use when dealing with unruly parents.
What will I say? How can I make her understand?
It's been two years now ... maybe longer ... since some overly cautious doctor grounded me forever.
Our van waits patiently out front in its properly designated handicap slot. I sometimes pat its old paint-chipped side as I push my walker to and from the mailbox ... and now and then I crawl back into the driver's seat - first being sure to pick a slow-traffic time of day - and venture two blocks over to Burger King's drive through window.
Phillip loves the Whopper Junior I bring back, and I enjoy the short thrill of forbidden freedom.
My daughter has every right to expect a reasonable explanation for the unreasonable renewal of a license I cannot - should not - must not use.
What am I going to say?
What can I say?
I need to know a valid driver's license is safely tucked into its rightful space inside a purse I never carry to places I no longer go.
I need it.
Settled.
email: MelindaGerner@yahoo.com
