Confession time. I am a backseat driver, an opinionated one. I have an overabundance of opinions when it comes to how someone should drive, where they should park, and the best route to take. This mental condition has developed unchallenged after 48 years of marriage of me always being the one behind the wheel.
It’s been almost a month since my knee injury, surgery, and being hobbled by a knee brace. Everywhere I go requires the assistance of Jan my lovely chauffeur because my straight leg condition only allows me to fit in the back seat, a place where another form of healing has taken place.
In the last 30 days, my understanding of the need for partnership in a marriage has been renewed, at times through gritted teeth. My backseat traveling mates have been two faithful friends – patience and silence.
This Thursday, I start physical therapy that will grant me 15 degrees of knee bend for each week of therapy. My backseat confinement will end soon. During this time, I have grown especially fond of the back of Jan’s sweet head and her ability to navigate the streets while carrying fragile, opinionated cargo. We have become a better team in the process. Strangely, her “I’ve got this!” will be missed. Front seat here I come!