阅读理解
I recently gave up driving. I passed my test last year, but I stopped voluntarily when I turned 90, I thought that it was finally the right time. Needless to say, my family was relieved--they didn't have to have "that talk" with me. My doctor was relieved too. Compared to a serious illness, taking away a senior driving license is one of the hardest things to do. Since my wife passed away years ago, I made this decision alone, although I'm sure my wife would have supported me. I knew I couldn't move as well as I used to, and my eyesight was getting worse. It hurt to turn my head when backing up the car, and, after long shopping trips, I was always tired.
As I handed over the keys of the car to my son, I thought of all the cars my wife and I had owned over the years. A car is freedom, independence, and an extension of your personality. Without one, you feel like less of a person.
I have a son who lives close by and we shop together at least once a week. My neighbors also offer me rides, but the idea of being dependent on other people after a lifetime of independent is hard to get used to.
I have learned to adapt and change. With my own car, I could go anywhere at a moment's notice. But now, my life is different and I must plan ahead for everything. No more going out for mill or bread or last minute afternoon drives. However, I found a solution to some of those problems. Last month, I decided to buy a nice new four-wheel electric motorbike. At the top speed of 12km/h, it takes 20 minutes to get from my house to the store. But now, my ride is free from traffic and noise, with trees and greenery replacing cars and street signs.
Giving up driving is hard, and some of us never accept the loss. For me, however, it was just the end result of a long and lucky life. Life in the slow lane turned out to be so much fun-and so much cheaper.