Learning to drive at 55. The author had always been terrified to drive. Then a family emergency reared its ugly head and she finally had to learn. It took a while. A long while. A really long while. First, she suffered the horror of wondering if she would fit her plus size in the driver’s seat and the terror of the first Spring Day at a popular Lake Michigan Beach with skate boarders, kids, cyclists and dogs and then halfway through her lessons, she realizes that the emergency is in Tampa, and she lives in Chicago. Then when she was just about to run out of lessons, she got it.
Now at 77 she is making up for not driving as a teen and blasting music; she is now a cool rock and roll chick.
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