Here we are, already in May! It is the month of flowers sent by April showers, the month of Memorial Day when we honor those who gave their lives in military service to our country, and the month of my birthday.
Birthdays are coming around a little faster now. I’m not faster but everything else appears to be so. Traffic is number one. Yes—I am one of those . . . .. I drive the exact speed limit. But I always move over into the slow lane to let everyone else pass me. I’m good with that.
Traffic is interesting. Everyone is in a rush in the mornings. Did they lose track of time; did they forget something and have to go back? Perhaps they simply don’t get up early enough to leave at a reasonable time in order to NOT drive the speed of light. Did I say that? Yes I did. In the afternoons, I guess travelers are rushing to pick up children, pick up supper, pick up Fluffy from the vet or Jack from the groomer, or to merely get home and rest before having to do all those things.
I am the only one driving 70 on I-40, the only one driving 25 down main street where I live, and the only one coming to a complete stop at the big red sign that tells me to do so. And I use my blinker! Imagine that!
Driving is something I have to do; and do not enjoy it as I have in the past. The distant past, I should say. I have a small car I love and can park it anywhere. It is also quite economical to drive with the gas prices going up and down like the carousel at Pullen Park in Raleigh. And by the way, isn’t that carousel just beautiful? It happens to be one of the oldest Dentzel carousels still in use. And is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. Check it out! I haven’t been in a long time but I need to change that. I’ll drive 70 mph on I-40 to get there.
At this age, I am simply no longer in a hurry. I get up at a reasonable hour to get to work on time, listening to talk radio as I drive. I’m up early for medical appointments so my blood pressure won’t be scary when the nurse checks it. And I like this.
Especially in May, I love to see the trees bursting in bloom, the grass getting that sweet green hue, and perhaps the gentle breeze blowing my hair as I putter along at 55 mph. I remember hurrying when my children were young: to daycare, to school, to games, to dance practice. I didn’t really think much about it then. Suddenly, it seems that life hurried along too, and here I am in my sixties . . . .slowly taking life one day at a time.
