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Dr. Ronald P. Rogers CHIROPRACTOR Support for your body's natural healing capabilities 270-384-5554 Click here for details 
  
Columbia Gas Dept. GAS LEAK or GAS SMELL Contact Numbers 24 hrs/ 365 days 270-384-2006 or 9-1-1 Call before you dig 
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Carol Perkins: The Keys Previous Column: Barbie By Carol Perkins I drove when I was eight. The couch cushions, positioned side by side on the floor, were my car. The lid of a pan with a knob on top for the horn was my steering wheel. My brother, Henry, rode beside me, and we took the curves in sync. Lean to the left, lean to the right, and throw on the brakes with our heads bobbing. Then he drove. We never discussed our destination. As I aged and Henry no longer sat beside me on the floor, I begged my mother to allow me to sit in our Mercury parked in the driveway. She was afraid I would accidentally knock the gear out of park and the car roll through the field facing me, or I might turn on the engine to listen to the radio and run down the battery. I promised not to start the car or touch the gears, so she gave in a few times. The times I sat in the driver's seat, pretending to drive, were freeing. I was used to playing with paper dolls and talking to myself, so I talked to my pretend passenger as I steered the car. It would be only a few years before this would no longer be pretend. Having my license was freedom. I remember how I felt to get in the car alone and drive to town or to my grandmother's house. As I became more experienced, I would be the one to run errands. I took the housekeeper home, went to the grocery store, and drove my grandmother to the beauty shop. However, venturing beyond the county didn't come for months. When I left for college in my first car (I was a sophomore), the long road from Edmonton to Richmond (Eastern), which took me through Burton Ridge, gave me time to sing with the radio, imagine the future, laugh out loud about the past, and contemplate school. Being alone on the road was peaceful. Those who have given up driving say that it was one of the hardest things to do because they surrender their independence. I dread the day when I won't be able to jump in the car and go where I want to go, but if I live long enough, Jon will take my keys. Carla will be the one to say, "I can't do this, but I know you can." She would be right. You can contact Carol at carolperkins06@gmail.com. This story was posted on 2023-08-05 09:02:57
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Carol Perkins:
Carol Perkins: Barbie Carol Perkins: Coughing Your Head Off Carol Perkins: Hamming It Up Carol Perkins: Too Much Relaxation July 4th fireworks time - have umbrella or be in vehicle Carol Perkins: time for a hearing exam Carol Perkins: Noticing changes Carol Perkins: I've Had IT Carol Perkins: What makes me happy Carol Perkins: Serving Our Country View even more articles in topic Carol Perkins |
 
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