I've only known two people in my life who never drove a car. Both were my grandmothers. They were always driven by family members, friends, taxis, or the bus lines. They must have been truly content women, happy and safe within the confines of their homes. I wish I was that way, but I am the exactly the opposite.
When my husband endured back to back surgeries to his hips,knee, and foot, I became his chauffeur for years. Until our cars were both outfitted with left foot accelerators, I was the designated driver of his life. It was not fun, as I am a very safe driver, and traffic patterns do not irritate my sensibilities when I am behind the wheel. However, this safe approach drives my husband nuts, and I had to threaten him with his sleep mask whenever he had to be my passenger. He finally backed off when I called a cab for one of his many doctor's visit. When I picked him up after the visit, he apologized and kept his back seat driving pointers under control for the remainder of my driving times. By this time, both cars had been outfitted, and driving 101 had begun. He became fairly proficient, and after a while, I rode with him. We did, however, take two cars for several months until I felt safe.
I must confess that after only 6 weeks of being at the mercy of other drivers, I finally understand my husband's frustrations from years ago. It has just about driven me crazy being limited to other people's driving skills. I am so thankful that I am driving again. I had a hard but satisfying day yesterday running errands, and just driving my familiar roads. I had just gotten home from the veterinarian when my husband drove in behind me. He commented on the bad wreck that was being covered by several patrol cars. It happened just past my neighborhood turn-in. I commented that I must have just missed it. He commented "or caused it." Maybe, I better pay closer attention when I get behind the wheel again.