When you are moving to a retirement home, the question arises: can I take the car? Will I need the car? Without a car, how will I have transportation when I need it?
We Americans love our cars. They give us a feeling of independence. A car in the parking lot means: We are not confined or even limited. We can go anytime. We can make an appointment and keep it. We can go to the drugstore to pick up a prescription. We can just escape if we feel the need—see the autumn leaves, climb a hill and look down on the town.
Most of us like the feeling of the car sitting there, ready when we are. We may neglect it, so that when we decide to go somewhere we find the battery dead. And we know it is a luxury, maybe not worth the expense: registration, licenses, insurance, repairs, gas. These are things we have to weigh in our minds and budget for.
And then there is the question: am I still a competent driver?
This is a serious matter. There are statistics that prove we elderly people are the worst drivers on the road.
Worse than teenagers? Sorry, but yes. Worse than teenagers.
On the other hand, when I need transportation, what will I do without a car?
This is a question to ask before you choose a retirement home: What transportation is available if I don’t have my own wheels?
Most homes have vehicles, large or small, that transport people to the grocery, (on a schedule, of course) to church, or any event attended by groups, such as concerts, ball games, plays, trips to a museum. This turns out to be a fun way to go places. You get to chatter all the way, just like you did on the school bus years ago. You will remember and tell your seatmate about trips out of town to play basketball or support the football team. And you will have no responsibility to park and then walk to the parking lot and find the car when it is time to go home. The bus unloads at the door and picks you up where it dropped you off. Somebody in charge has a list so no one gets left behind.
Of course when the trip you need to make is personal, you have to arrange for transportation with some time in advance. You must call the transportation office and say where you need to go and when. And when you are ready to come back home, you probably have to call the number and say so and wait for the driver to come back for you.
You don’t have the privilege of spontaneous decisions, but you are free of responsibility. Your driver is obliged tp find the address, as well as get you there and home again safely. And you never have to stop at a station and pump gas!
The reason for saying all of this is just to remind you to ask all the questions before you choose a home. Consider its location and the system in place for getting from there to other places you need to go. Make sure you know the policies related to having your own car: parking space, etc. Consider your own skills and the limitations of health. Remember the responsibilities involved as well as the privileges. Add up the expenses, know that you can afford it or admit that you cannot.
In other words, get all the relevant information and make your own decision.
I do think it is fair to factor in your own feelings as well as your age. Will you feel confined? Limited? Or relieved and free? Do the intangible factors outweigh the financial advantages?
Will you feel confined? Limited? Or maybe relieved and free?
If you are ambivalent, maybe you should talk it over with a trusted member of your family, some smart person who loves you.
In the end, of course, a car is like any possession. The question is not: “Should I let it go?” The question is: “When do I let it go?”
Part of the answer is that you need to be already in a safe place with necessary transportation provided.
Yes, Frances, this is something that is on my mind constantly. I’m 86. I live 20 miles from the doctor, 10 miles from the grocery story. I used to drive miles without even thinking about it. Now I have to consider so many things. I don’t want to leave the woods. But when I can’t drive, i’ll have to. When I have to move, I trust I will live with my son and his wife, they have a separate little bed-sit at their lovely home in New York. Otherwise, I frankly have pills and no hesitation in taking them. These last few years have been the best. But I know myself. A major move to a strange. life would deracinate me.
Hello, dear Frances, as always, you make good points. I just recently had to renew my driver’s license because I hit the big 7-0. I was very concerned that I would flunk the vision test. (I passed!) Although I hate to drive anyhow, and am lucky that Eileen can drive when we go someplace together, I didn’t want to burden her with driving me to book club or poetry group or dentist.
The driving issue is why many older old folks, who may have retired to rural living, reverse course and move “down the hill” to live with family members and/or near services.
Frances, if I were on one of those bus rides with you, we could reminisce about the enjoy times we had in Amman. Remember “What’s on My Head?” Blessings!!!
Thank you for your note, Warren. We could indeed reminisce. And thanks for reminding me of “:What’s That on My Head.