Fiorella read in the news about a ninety-three-year-old driver who lost control of his car and careened around a grocery story parking lot, killing an eighty-five-year-old packing away his groceries in his car trunk. And she remembers how the lovely daughter of one of her church's pastors was killed by an elderly woman ignoring a stop sign and T-boning her car. And she thinks about Sue Halter, ninety years old, who backed into her in the Walgreen's parking lot, despite Fio honking the hell out of her horn--and who then denied responsibility.
It's hard to give up your car keys. Fiorella and Husband, Brother and his wife, the grandchildren--we all joined forces to get Father off the road. Dad had macular degeneration and could barely make out traffic signals, but he insisted he was a safe driver because he drove v-e-r-y slowly and never made a left turn--executing a series of right turns instead. He'd had one wreck already, pulling out of a restaurant onto the street, but he insisted "that Baylor boy" was driving too fast. More likely, Dad,had mis-estimated the speed of the oncoming traffic when he crept out onto the road.
Fiorella has been driving since she was sixteen and it won't be easy for her to turn over the keys. But it will be necessary. If she doesn't realize she is posing a danger to others, she hopes her children will be kind enough to take over and save her from killing someone.