I drove to work yesterday, following the route I always take.

The white SUV was in the parking lot of an office building, slowly nosing their way out into the busy six lane street. A left turn was their mission.

I was driving straight. Nothing fancy, just a straight line that she interrupted with her creeping turn.

When I realized we were about to meet, I honked my horn and stepped on my brakes. They locked and screeched while my horn screamed alarm.

Then, I saw her. I locked eyes with her inside her car, looking little and confused and unclear about how this has happened, this perpendicular car arrangement.

She was probably in her late 70’s, early 80’s, with a short white bob.
And she sat completely still in her car, long after we first locked eyes. She seemed frozen. Her car was blocking off the lane I was driving in. She finally started to back up, but only made it inches….inches, before she stopped again.

My thoughts flashed to my grandparents, still driving, also in a white SUV, slower and less aware on the road than they once were. I thought of someone sitting and staring at my grandmother, honking their horn with annoyance while she sat frozen in fear and shame, wondering what to do next.

I got a lump in my throat, waved and moved into the next lane so that I could pass the car still sitting in the middle of my path. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw her white SUV stationed there for a full minute after I passed…eventually, she turned right and slowly moved forward.

Would she tell her family about this incident? Would she mention her attempted left hand turn at nine o’clock on a Tuesday morning that almost ended in being t-boned? Would she sit and contemplate how aging was stripping her of basic abilities, like driving?

It seems so sad and heavy, this deep contemplation of life and loss, because of a white SUV with a woman inside staring blankly.