My late son Paul used to say no one over eighty should be driving. Yeah right! I was still happily driving at ninety. Then something happened: I fractured my patella and did not drive my car for several weeks. After my brace was finally removed from my leg, I went to get into my car to run some errands; the battery was dead. The man from AAA came, recharged my battery, and asked if I was interested in selling my car. Odd question I thought. How much is it worth I asked. A quick look on his smartphone, and he came up with the Blue Book estimate for a 2004 Subaru Outback: $3,000. That got me thinking. I don’t like to admit this, but I am guessing I’m not the only ninety-year-old who feels this way. I used to get into my car and drive off without much preparation as to where I was going; I just knew. Not anymore, now I have to map my route in my head before I take off, and I have a slight tinge of anxiety if it’s a new destination. I am also more cautious, more aware of my surroundings; I maintain a heightened stage of alertness, which is not really that pleasant. There is a small feeling of uncertainty, of less confidence in my driving ability. Although my reflexes are good, I know they cannot be as sharp as in my younger days. Even though I practice turning my head to see beyond the blind spot, I am aware that it does not turn as far as it used to. It may also be that not having driven for a few weeks increased my tentativeness. All this led to a couple of days of unpleasant cogitation on whether or not to give up driving. It is a momentous decision, because it changes the status of one’s independence. It causes one to rely on others for transportation, which I heartily dislike doing; I will always feel like it’s an imposition to be dependent on others. When I finally decided to give up driving, my daughter said she was relieved (after having been concerned about this for quite some time). I am both sad and wistful (and also a bit relieved). I did some research on older drivers and came across some dismal statistics. In collaboration with Harvard Health Publications, the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety on Age and Driving reported the following: “Per mile traveled, fatal crash rates increase noticeably starting at age 70–74 and are highest among drivers 85 and older. The increased fatal crash risk among older drivers is largely due to their increased susceptibility to injury, particularly chest injuries, and medical complications, rather than an increased tendency to get into crashes. By 2020, there will be more than 40 million drivers in the 65 and above age group. Older drivers have higher rates of fatal crashes based on miles driven than any other age group, except young drivers.” So I started thinking about not only myself, but about the limitations most older people suffer from that can influence their driving abilities. A lot of my friends have arthritis which makes it more difficult to turn the steering wheel and press the brake and accelerator. Moreover given the normal slowing of reflexes, seniors might not respond quickly enough to avoid an accident. Then there are issues with our vision and hearing not being as sharp as in our younger days. I always worry about missing road signs; I have to get closer to see street names and house numbers. Older people also take more medications, some of which may impact driving. I have not fallen asleep while driving, but I have fallen asleep while reading a book and even at long, boring lectures. All of the above, plus the fact that I have a few dents and scrapes on my car, are warning signs that it may very well be time to stop driving. This made me pause and decide not to push my luck, and so I bit the bullet and sold my car, admitting that I am part of that at-risk population mentioned before. I just may have saved someone’s life, as well as my own. To my readers, a bit of advice: If you can relate to the feelings expressed in this column, you may also realize that it’s time for you to make that difficult decision to stop driving—and not wait for that decision to be made for you! Natasha Josefowitz taught the first course in the United States on women in management and is the author of more than 20 books. She lives at the White Sands in La Jolla. Copyright © 2016. Natasha Josefowitz. All rights reserved.