A collision, a settlement ... and no more car

     To begin, we -- especially Beatrice -- are blessed to be walking around mostly healthy. But ...

     Youngest grandson Eli, as sympathetic and bewildered as a nearly 4-year-old can be, observes that "Granny and Opa are carless."

     He is correct. We are carless.

     Eli adds: "You bumped into somebody."

     Well, not quite. Somebody bumped into us -- but it was more than a bump. It was a collision. 

     We no longer have the silver 2010 Toyota Camry we bought brand-new eight years ago. It is gone to the salvage yard.  
     The last day we drove it was ... Friday the 13th. It was a bad-luck day for us, but not entirely. The good luck was that we walked away from a T-bone collision.
     No one ever said I am a good driver, but this accident was not our fault. 
     Driving to our senior-resident facility from a morning yoga/stretch class at the Fort Worth Central YMCA (downtown), three blocks from home, another driver crashed his car into the right side (passenger side, Bea's side) of our vehicle.
     The young man ran a red light at Henderson and 10th Street. A few moments -- and two wrecked cars -- later, he immediately took responsibility. 

The crushing blow:  Our 2010 Toyota Camry -- gone to the salvage yard

     No one was badly hurt, thank goodness.
     Bea's back and spine have been stiff for a couple of weeks afterward, but she has not needed medical treatment. Gentle exercises and a couple of hot-tub visits have helped.
     The airbags on Bea's side of the car deployed, for the most part, saving her from more severe injuries. The young man had a burned area on his right arm from his airbag. Only issue I had was a small bruise on my right wrist, presumably from gripping the steering wheel tightly as I twisted it to the left hoping to avoid his car.
     No chance.
     I had come from a red-light stop on 10th, slowly starting across the intersection because there is a dip in the road there. Saw the black car flash on my right ... tried, but no way to avoid it.
     Pardon me: Damn!
     First reaction, after pulling the car to the curb, was to look over at Bea. She was shaken, but seemed OK. 
     Next thought: So much for giving this car -- close to 108,000 miles -- to our daughter this fall.
     I got out, looked for the other car and driver. Not there. Where did he/she go? But one of the license plates was in the road, so in case of a hit-and-run ... 
     I walked around to the right side of our car (Bea was still inside), and it was crushed. Yuk. Wondered why our windows were so darned fogged up? Duh, that was the airbags.
     Next: Who was going to call the police? We did not have our phones with us (no need for them at the YMCA). 
     A break: There were witnesses. Two young women in the car behind the other driver pulled up behind us; they had seen the collision happen. They already had called 911 and reported the accident. They were concerned about us and the other driver, and they told us they could stay until the police showed up.
     They also told me that the other car had run the red light. I was pretty certain of that, but not sure what the other driver would say.
     A polite, neat-looking young man emerged from behind the nearby pizza place where he had managed to drive his car. He immediately said, "It's my fault; I ran the red light."
     He explained that he was thinking about having to make a left turn into the Walgreen's that was a block ahead on his  left, and he completely forgot to look at the traffic light. My estimate is that he was going about 30-35 miles per hour.
     He quickly added: "I called my father. ... This is my sister's car. I am not looking forward to having the conversation with her."
     Honestly, we felt badly for him. And when we walked around to look at his car, the front end was a total mess.
     A young policeman was on the scene within three minutes, and he could not have handled it better. He was very concerned about our physical conditions.
     His only confusion was that he saw Bea emerge from our driver's side door, so he questioned who was driving our car. Bea told him she had to climb out that side; the passenger side door was inoperable. 
     The damage was as bad on the inside of our car -- seats torn, glove compartment stuck -- as the outside. 
     The young man's car was going to have to be towed. We could drive our car the remaining distance home, but the policeman followed us to be sure we got there safely.
      Parked it in our large parking lot, so it could be easily accessed -- and that was the last time we were in it. 
---
     We have had some mishaps with cars over the years -- a mattress dropping off a truck as we followed, and the mattress stuck under our front right tire in heavy early evening Houston freeway traffic. Near Tyler, a tire off the back of a car bouncing all the way across I-20 to the other side and sailing over our roof. A few minor bumps here and there. The right side on this car previously smashed in while Bea was at a grocery store (so this was our second right-side); extensive hail damage (our mistake for leaving it outside) a couple of years ago.
     Never had anything this jarring happen before. But this was also a good-luck accident for us. 
     One friend's car was T-boned a few years back, leaving her with extensive injuries and a long rehab. Another friend, with two of his young children in the car, drove into a driver who ran a stop sign; fortunately, no one hurt.         
     So we count our blessings.
     Among those, a smooth insurance-settlement process. Maybe others have experienced insurance issues. Not in this case. Took a few phone calls and online exchanges, but it went as well as one could hope.
     Our insurance company -- thankfully -- declared it a total loss, and arranged for its salvage dealer to haul it off from our parking lot exactly one week after the accident (and take our signed title in the process).
     It also arranged for us to use a rental car for a week, and we needed that for a couple of planned trips out of Fort Worth and one or two short journeys here.
     Now what?       
     We had planned to give up our car in the fall. We think we can do it. The timetable just moved up.
     Don't like  driving anymore -- the roads are crowded, and so many other drivers are just wild -- and we figure to save money without paying for insurance, maintenance ... and gasoline. 
     We are provided transportation in several fashions by our living facility, we have the option of Lyft or Uber, or the city buses, and if we need to rent a car for a trip -- say, to see the kids in Tennessee or even Prosper -- there are three rental places within a mile radius.
     We loved our baby Toyota Camry, though. Bought it new, paid it off before the original due date, and maintained it as well as any vehicle we have ever had.   
     On the last day we drove it, we were happy to walk away from it. We are "carless," but grateful.       

Life is good in our new place

     A little more than five weeks in our new senior-citizen retirement community, and we really like it.

     This is home, a welcoming, friendly place.

     We have been greeted and recognized as "newbies" about 48 dozen times, and that is a good feeling.

     Now we have been here long enough that we are among the greeters for the latest newcomers. And hopefully they will be as happy as we are.

     We have walked into a community of walkers. You might know that I am a daily walker -- or try to be. So, fine. But this  is a twist on words.

     Yes, there are those who often go walking for exercise -- for example, a woman (Earline), age 81, who has walked from here to Central Market and to Hulen Mall ... those are extensive hikes. There is a 7:15 a.m. walking group every Tuesday and Thursday.

A familiar sight here: the lineup of walkers outside
 the dining room.

     (No extensive hikes for me, just aiming for a good workout. And no walking group; I am a solo act, so I choose my own routes.)

     Back to the point, the walkers I mentioned above are the ones used to assist those unable to walk on their own. They are a common sight here (see photo), most noticeably outside the lunch/dinner area.

     It is, after all, an older community. At ages 73 and 71, Bea and I are -- a guess here -- among the youngest 10 percent of the population here.

     Another guesstimate: About 35 to 40 percent of the people here use walkers or motorized carts, or require a cane or other walking aide. (It is 50 percent on our floor.) Many others are wobbly. 

     But please understand: This is not meant as a negative. Not at all. This is just the way it is.

     Here is what we quickly learned: The people who live here -- if they possibly can be -- want to be so independent, so determined to live their remaining time as best they can.

     Found this out the second day we were here. We have a 98-year-old woman -- sharp mentally -- who was about to do her laundry in the area on our floor, and when I offered to help, she let me know she could do it herself. 

     Next day I met a 97-year-old man upstairs (he's on a walker, but he's obviously still alert enough. The following day I saw him driving his car out of our garage).

      I sat with a 96-year-old confined to a motorized cart, listened to his stories, his movements slow and labored, but with total recall of events, places and names 6-7-8 decades ago. 

     We have a 91-year-old retired minister in our easy yoga class (which isn't all that easy), a witty, upbeat man. Just yesterday, we visited with a generous 89- and 81-year-old couple prominent in their past communities -- and still contributing.

     We have met at least eight doctors (we have a radiologist and a veterinarian -- both retired -- living next to us), a few nurses, oil/gas entrepreneurs, a half dozen clergymen, attorneys, a judge, and -- as mentioned previously -- one baseball Yankees/World Series star and ex-president of the American League who is an entertaining storytelling presence.   

     Interesting, vibrant people, all with their own interesting stories and accomplishments, and we meet more each day. And many stay involved; there is, if you want, plenty to do:

     -- Exercise classes -- yoga, "sit and be fit," strength training, water aerobics, tai chi (don't laugh, we are learning), a "better balance" class, a [river] bank-run group (no, thank you) ... and the walking group.  

     -- Regular games: bingo, poker, dominoes, Mexican dominoes (without a wall), pinochle, something called Manipulation; team gin rummy. 

     -- Regular trips to area venues -- grocery shops -- and special events/facilities. We went to the Kimbell Art Museum last week, a day after a group went to the Perot Museum in Dallas. 

     -- Group outings to various restaurants (can we resist Jason's Deli or Babe's Chicken?).

     There is a social hour each Thursday at 4 p.m., with delightful -- and some unusual -- musical performances, plus the occasional musical special ("Dancing With The Stars" tickets on sale now). There is a party to celebrate birthdays each month; .

     Every other week, we have a Saturday Morning Coffee program (they have not asked me to host yet). There was an entertaining sing-along program one evening (they asked me -- no, told me -- not to sing). On the Fourth of July, there was an ice cream social at noon (ice cream for lunch -- yes!).

     There is a ballroom dancing class, a knitting group, "cop and coffee" meetings, and the pool table, the wellness center, a therapy pool, and the indoor heated swimming pool. There are lobbies and rooms to sit and read, a library with plentiful selections, an area with computers and office needs, meetings rooms.

     Bea has joined one of the various book clubs, and as a former antique/collectibles dealer, she is working toward helping with one of the big monthly attractions -- the White Elephant Sale.

     The extensive operation of goods/furniture/clothes -- much left over from estate-type apartment sales after deaths of residents -- benefits the community's work force.
      And the staff -- top management to workers in all departments -- has been very courteous, pleasant, helpful,   well-organized and efficient.
      (Reality check: Since we have been here, there have been five deaths, including the oldest resident -- 103.)

     There is an extensive health-care operation, with memory-care floors, therapy units, and support groups for specific areas (Parkinson's, dementia, etc.)

     For those interested, there are religion-based services and meetings.

     We are provided transportation, housekeeping and laundry services. We are grateful.

     The lunch/dinner venues currently are next to the 16th floor in our building, nice views of downtown in several directions. A new dining facility is under construction in our building, and management -- in the meantime -- is providing daily breakfast, coffee and soup (2-4 p.m.) in a downstairs lounge area.

     We think lunch and dinner choices are plentiful -- too much for us, really; more than we want. Takes discipline to keep from having too much, discipline we too often don't have. Ice cream and/or yogurt and all sorts of cakes/desserts with every meal ... dang, stop it. (Staying away from the weight scales.)

     So, more exercising is necessary. And back to where we started, about walking. For my friends who have inquired, yes, I have found new walking trails -- gone in every direction already. 

     There are many parking garages nearby (almost empty after working hours and on weekends, and some shaded to keep me out of the blazing sun) and the nearby Montgomery Plaza parking lots are huge; prime territory for me.

     Won't be driving much any more. In the next blog, you can find out why.