When do we take the keys away from the elderly?

A contribution from Ed - 

Prince Phillip Behind the Wheel

The story today regarding Queen Elizabeth's husband, Prince Philip (age 97), being involved in an automobile accident and turning his Range Rover on its side.....thankfully unhurt, but shaken, reminded me of a personal story of over 25 years ago.  

The question back then, as now, was simply: "When do we take the keys away from the old man?"  And, of course, the question applies to us too.......someday.

It was in the late 1990s, as I recall, that I had been a grant proposal consultant and reviewer for the U.S. Office of Education in Washington, D.C.  This was a week-long consulting gig, but during that time I met a young woman -- "Paula" was her first name but her last name I've long since forgotten -- who was on the grant proposal review team along with me.  

During a break in our work she told me that she was from Chicago and that if I was ever in Chicago to look her up.  Well, about six months later I was in Chicago for a three day long regional accreditation agency Annual Meeting and -- on a lark -- called "Paula" up.  She invited me out to her house where she lived with her elderly father.  As I recall the house was not far from downtown Chicago in an older working class Polish neighborhood -- mostly 1920s era houses with garages in the alleys behind.  

So I got to her place, rang the door bell, she answered and immediately introduced me to her father -- whose name, also, I've long forgotten.  Nonetheless, a pleasant old guy as I recall.  But I do remember clearly "Paula" telling me that her father was in his late 80s and had recently had a car accident where he ran off the road and side-swiped a road sign.  She was concerned that her father might hurt someone while driving and wondered if it might be time for someone to have a talk with him, admonishing him -- perhaps even pushing him -- to give up driving.  

Little did I think that I might be that "someone" who would talk with him.

While "Paula" got us a soft drink and some dessert from the refrigerator her father told me about his car back in the alley behind the house.  What?  It was a 1968 Plymouth Barracuda.  "Would you like to see it?" he said.  And, of course, I told him that a '68 Barracuda was the first car that I had owned after college graduation.  

We went into the back alley, he opened the garage, and there was a '68 Barracuda (Dark Blue -- mine was British Racing Green).  His had the 225 Slant Six engine, as did mine.  The front fender on his 'Cuda had been crushed in from the recent accident he'd had but he told me, over and over, how much he loved driving that car -- he had bought it new and always kept it cleaned and waxed.  

We sat down in it for a couple of minutes and chatted as he clutched the steering wheel.

We went back in the house and this elderly man's daughter "Paula" asked me to come into the kitchen for a moment where she said: "Do me a favor?"  "Talk to my dad and tell him that he needs to give up the keys."  "Please" she said, "I have tired but he won't listen to me."  I recall her saying: "He's going to hit someone while driving, perhaps kill a kid."  With tears in his eyes she said: "Tell him to please give up driving.......I can't reason with him."

So in perhaps the most pastoral thing I have ever done, I went into the living room where her father was sitting and we talked about driving and about his love of cars and, especially, his love of his Barracuda.  Truthfully, I can't recall exactly what I shared with him, but it was likely something to the effect: "Your daughter, Paula, really thinks you need to stop driving."  "You really don't want to be involved in a serious accident where someone -- yourself or others -- perhaps even a child -- might be seriously hurt."  

"Maybe its time?" I said to him.  To this very day I know I said to him "Maybe it's time."

He started to cry. I reached out and held his hand.  He looked at his car keys on the table beside his chair and said to me: "Give the keys to Paula, give them to her right now..... before I change my mind."  And I did.

I never saw Paula again after that and we never stayed in touch, but to this day I still wonder whether her father continued to drive or did he really "give up the keys."