Driving Like a Grandma

“You drive like a grandma.”

I glanced sideways at Tom, annoyance leaking from my brain and threatening to flow out of my mouth.

He elaborated. “You don’t keep up with the traffic.”

“I’m driving three miles above the speed limit,” I said, struggling to keep my voice calm.

“But everyone else is blowing by you,” he pointed out. I considered pulling into the nearest parking lot and telling him to drive, in spite of the fact that the reason I was driving at all was that he had just been seen by a doctor and was in no shape to get behind the wheel.

“I didn’t mean anything bad,” he said. “You’re a rule keeper.”

Tom and I have different driving philosophies. His: Keep up with the traffic. Mine? Drive no more than five miles over the speed limit, no matter how fast the other cars are going. We both have good reasons to back up our philosophy. I drive as close as I can to the speed limit because it’s the law. He keeps up with traffic because he feels it is less safe to have cars zooming all over the road, driving dangerously, to get around him. Me: rule keeper. Tom: rule bender.

I took a quick glance at him again and knew he was sincere. He had meant what he said as a simple observation, not a criticism. Why did his comment annoy me?

It only took a few seconds to figure out. My brain told me driving like a grandma equals slow. Slow is a trigger for me.

I am meticulous and detail oriented, which means it takes me longer than most to finish—well, pretty much anything. Through much of my life, this was a source of embarrassment for me. I remember overhearing my sister saying to her daughter, “You’re as slow as your Aunt Crystle.” She meant it as a joke, but I took it as a negative. As a young mother I agonized over the fact that my friend could accomplish twice as much in a day with her three children as I could with my one.

But doing things slowly is not a liability for a grandma. Stretching the moments is an asset.

Our seven grandchildren—ranging in age from six months to sixteen—live 2,000 miles from us, so I put my all into every moment I get to spend with them. When I read to them, I point out details in the pictures and change my voice for the different characters. When we play games, I let them take their time to choose the right card or decide which way to move. When they tell me their plans for the future, I listen with both ears and weigh my words before responding.

If Tom had said, “You read like a grandma,” or “You play games like a grandma,” or “You listen like a grandma,” I would have beamed with pride. What’s so wrong with driving like a grandma?

A grandma knows life is too short to be in a hurry.

I’ll drive like a grandma all day!