Uncle Simon desperately needed to get back to his hometown. Being afraid of flying and disliking trains, he figured going by car was his last resort, except he couldn’t drive. Born with a defect in his legs, he spent most of his life sitting and none of it driving. One by one, he asked relatives to chauffeur him to his destination. One by one they turned him down because of other pressing engagements, except for Grandmama.
A beautiful German lady, who came over from the old country, with a sense of humor unmatched by anyone else in the family. She made a delightful traveling partner when she held the passenger seat. However, she got her driver’s license rather late in life and now, at the age of eighty-five, she insisted on driving herself everywhere after Pop, her husband died.
Uncle Simon never rode with her before this emergency, and, at her advanced age, his hesitancy to do so showed.
“Grandmama, I need to get there in two days. Traveling from Central Florida to New York is daunting for a younger person. Maybe I had better overcome my fear and fly instead. I don’t think we can possibly make it in time driving. I worry about you driving long hours.”
“Of course we make it. You go home, pack. Be back tomorrow morning by six o’clock. Do not fuss, just go. Do what I say.”
Giving in, Uncle Simon left to pack. Grandmama waited the next morning with a thermos of coffee and sandwiches freshly made for the trip. Off they went on an adventure Uncle Simon talked about for years to come.
“Grandmama had the original lead foot. She never got under 100 miles per hour except for the occasional small town. My poor legs tried in vain to put on brakes in the passenger floor board. We took turnoffs for gas on two wheels, tires screaming. I prayed to make the trip in one piece and dared not think about the return miles! We hit my town, and I do mean hit, since she barreled down the road leading to it at about eighty and slammed on brakes so the speedometer matched the city signs.”
“Oh, Simon, you exaggerate,” Grandmama always scolded him.
“Trust me, it’s no exaggeration,” he said, eyes pleading with his audience to believe him. “She arrived looking fresh and ready to enjoy the visit. I came out of the car, shaking from head to toe, clothes wrinkled from me grabbing my shirt and twisting it to the point of popping a button or two off. My hair stood on end from fingers constantly running through it. Somewhere along the way, I lost one shoe and hobbled into the house babbling I needed to buy new ones. By the time we headed back to Florida, I was an old hand riding with Grandmama. But, I tell you to this day, you could not pay me enough to get back in the car with that woman, love her though I do!”
Truth be told, he blanched white at the thought of riding with Grandmama and never set foot in her car again.