It was a long and tiring day today. I was using the old 1970′ something Chevrolet pickup for hauling some debris. We are continuing to tear down the bungalow. After finishing the work, I went to the local building supply store and bought some cull 4′ X 8′ plywood for boarding up some windows (at less than half price). A trip by the grocery store, and then I started the trip home.
As I was entering a major intersection at the getting-off hour, my usually trusty pickup died. Dead. In the middle of the intersection. With a semi-trailer truth behind me. Oh great, I mumbled, while trying to start it. The traffic noises were so loud I couldn’t hear what might be wrong with the pickup. I tried to flag down any rugged man I could spot, and ask them for help pushing me off the street. No takers. Either they were headed to supper, or their new autos wouldn’t push another vehicle. (Perhaps I should have focused on the wimpy drivers…) I even walked back to the truck driver, but knew he couldn’t do anything with the semi he was driving.
So I turned on the flashers and called 911. About that time, I felt a rear-end jolt. Was someone trying to get me off the road or trying to help? I didn’t question, but quickly switched the transmission to neutral. The driver bumped me a little more gently this time, and I turned the corner and drifted into a parking lot. He didn’t stop but continued on. I was grateful, but it would have been less concerting if he had given me notice of what he was going to do. No matter, I was off the road, and glad of it.
The police arrived and offered me a ride home. I refused and started calling my husband, to no avail (he refuses to wear his hearing aids), and then my grandson (who was in church). My neighbor, who tends to look after the neighborhood where we live, brought me gasoline, and the pickup started.
I had run out of gasoline. The gauge showed I still had over a fourth tank left. Well, I won’t trust that gauge anymore. I guess it did what many of us “aged” people do: it misrepresented the facts.
A life lesson? Many of us may think we have more mileage than we actually do. Do we have things we need to do but are putting off? Have we told that special person we love them often enough? Have we gone to our Father about our spiritual condition?
Let’s not get caught in a busy intersection at rush hour with a semi-truck bearing down behind us.
I got the groceries home, and my husband helped me carry them in with his wheelchair, dropping a sack of plums along the driveway. Oh well, I’m just glad the day in almost over.