Print Page - Cab Drive

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.
When I arrived at 2:30 AM, the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away..
But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail,elderly voice.
I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets and there were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. "Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"
"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a
hospice". I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw that her eyes were
glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you
like me to take?" I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the
building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived
when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture
warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said,
"I'm tired. Let's go now."
We drove in silence to the address she had given me..
It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway
that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were
solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been
expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door.
The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," I said. "You have to make a living," she answered.
"There are other passengers," I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me
tightly.
"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.
Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost
in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.
What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient
to end his shift?
What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven
away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more
important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what
others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT THEY
WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.
Thank you, my friend....
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might
as well dance. Every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from
God.

Yes it does. Kind of puts a lot of things in perspective. I mean, how many of us get caught up in the rat race we call our lives and forget to value and cherish even the little moments? I know I don't do enough stopping and smelling the flowers.

Quick story. Nothing revelatory or anything, just something to maybe help you stop and smell the roses.

The other night, as my wife sat on the couch watching a movie, my 21 month old son, Hunter and I wrestled around on the floor. Now, I have a serious back injury that has held me down for three years now. I have had 5 surgeries, 2 MRI's four epidural steroid injections, and countless visits to my doctor's office. I normally can't play with my son on the floor like I did that night. It usually lasts only a few minutes and then I have to get up an sit down to let my back "recover."

After we were done playing, I sat on the couch and didn't even notice if my back hurt or not. I was too wrapped up in the joy of being a father. The look in my son's eyes saying that he was happy that I was his dad and he my son was almost too much for me. I sat there and just enjoyed the rest of the night. He cried when it was bedtime which is usual. My wife and I went to bed. That was it.

I tell you this in hoped that you too will just stop and realize what you have in life. I know I don't do it enough. I take my wife for granted way too much. Something I really need to work on. But I don't enjoy those little moments as much as I really should.

God Bless,
Robert

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