Years
ago, when our only car died we did without, for a full year.
We
lived in a small town. We could walk and there was one bus route which went
right through the complex we lived in, and my husband was able to get rides to
and from work from a co-worker. We managed.
This
year, I wasn’t really thinking of the possibility of being without a car not
even after my husband’s car gave up the ghost. Mine was fine. More or less.
Then
mine went down.
And
it would happen at the end of the month and money. Not to mention right before
we were planning to drive up to our daughter’s college graduation.
And
if you think being without a car in a big city should be easier than in a small
town. Think again.
For
my husband, a disabled vet, it wasn’t too difficult. He can still walk around,
at least enough to catch the city bus and he gets a steep discount because he
is disabled. Then again, most of his appointments were through the VA and the
DAV, Disabled American Vets, runs a bus service just for the vets to get to
their appointments. So for him, being without a car only meant it took longer
to get there.
For
me to get to the grocery store, which is more than a mile away, or my daughters
to get to their doctors’ appointments, required finding someone to take us.
No
problem. We’re regular church goers. Pull up a church roster and call a few
stay at home or otherwise retired women and ask for some help.
At
a guess I’d say over the last three weeks eight out of ten calls I made went to
voicemail. I must have placed around ten to fifteen calls every other day or so,
and out of all those only one person ever got back to me. She saw I’d called
her several times earlier that day.
Needless
to say, between all the appointments my daughters had over the last three weeks
and just trying to keep milk in the house, it felt like trying to pull teeth to
get rides. My fridge will only hold so much milk and it never lasts longer than
three days. I was lucky if I could get a ride every four to six days. Plus each
of my daughters ended up canceling an appointment because we couldn’t find them
a ride. (For several reasons the bus system wouldn’t have worked for my girls
the biggest one being they’d be out in the sun for far too long, which neither one
can do for medical reasons.)
So
I was really happy to get my car up and running again, though feeling basic human
kindness was a thing of the past.
Then
yesterday two of my daughters and I were at the store and we had to get dogfood.
With five dogs, it’s a fifty pound bag. We were shifting things in my trunk to
make room for it when a gentleman walked up, commenting on the size of the bag
and dropped it in.
I’ll
admit both my daughters are petite, but they’re used to moving those bags. We
get them every month. But after all the trouble I had trying get the help I did
need from people I know, it rather astounded me to have complete stranger be a
gentleman.
All
three of us thanked him, though he made light of it as he walked off.
This
man passed it forward. Now it’s your turn.
Smile.
Make the day a brighter day.