There’s a Particular Freedom That Only Comes With Wheels

“Memories are simply moments that refuse to be ordinary.” quote from actress Diane Keaton.

It was a very cold Chicago morning on March 11th, 1996, my 45th birthday. Going into the kitchen, I heard something rustling under the sink. Inside our garbage can there was a small mouse. Instead of panicking, I took the can outside to free it, but the stairs were icy and I slipped and fell. No injuries, just a strange start to what would become a very unusual day.

After that, I went inside to wake my two children to get them off to school. I drove a Tracker, which was the wrong type of car to drive on an icy day. Making the turn to drop Tracy at New Trier High School, the car skidded on the ice and ran into another car. This was car accident number one.

Later, with the day getting grayer and the roads were icier, I rushed to return some library books. In a hurry to return home, I pulled out of my parking space without looking back and hit a moving car. This was car accident number two.

At three-thirty, I went to pick up my kids from school. The day had gotten even grayer and it was sleeting that icy snowy mix. I was stopped waiting for the train, and when I started the car up it rolled backwards into the car behind me. This was car accident number three. Not a great day!

I had been driving since I was fourteen years old. My parents had a summer home in Genoa City, Wisconsin. My mother, didn’t care to go to the grocery store in near by Twin Lakes, so she would send me. I drove everyone, everywhere in our community. So it was interesting that at sixteen when I went for my drivers test, I failed. It took me two tries.

I became my parents chauffeur, and the neighborhood car lady. Always the one calling “Who needs a lift?” I even purchased a van with seating for ten to accommodate my passengers. I loved driving! It gave me credibility, an identity, I was useful, and most importantly it gave me freedom to come and go, for good reasons, bad reasons, or no reason at all.

I have been told that I have no peripheral vision. My children now tell me I was a scary driver. And soon after that birthday, I developed a problem with my leg. It was hard to hold the pedals down. Yet, I continued to drive. I felt I had no choice! If I stopped driving who would take care of my parents, my children and my social life?

Luckily, Russ said “Were selling the house and moving to the city. There you and the kids can take public transportation. We will move your parents to a retirement community near our house and you must retire your driver’s license.”

You would think friends and family would congratulate me. You would think they would say, “Wow, thank you for not driving and maybe causing an accident and hurting someone.” But they all said, ” Hallee, are you crazy.! How could you agree to this?” I would like to tell you it’s not easy to give away your freedom.

I was lucky because Russ, still liked to drive and he was amiable to take me wherever I wanted to go. But, and there always is a “but.” He wouldn’t make the short stops that I wanted to make and he judged my decisions. I normally just got into the car and went to my favorite little dives. Now I had to ask him to take me to the places I wanted to go. It’s really humbling.

Our son Nick told me about a Tesla that drives itself. I looked into it, but it still requires active driver supervision at all times! However, I am told I am not an observant person. Therefore I believe I would find this very stressful.

Now living on a farm and feeling quite isolated, I really miss that freedom even more. I find myself dreaming of the days when I was driving my parents’ convertible on the highway towards Lake Geneva. The warm breeze on my face, farmland stretching in every direction, and the destination the beach. I see my girlfriend Roberta seated beside me and we’re singing a song by The Doors at the top of our lungs. My goodness, how time flies. And that’s when I really feel the loss of my driver’s license

The long and short of it is, I’ve decided not to renew my license. After thinking it through, I’ll continue to rely on Russ, on Uber and on friends who have been so kind about picking me up. I am truly grateful for them. However, there’s no denying it, there is a particular freedom that only comes with wheels.