Retirement was supposed to be relaxing, but just a few months after I’d left my teaching job I found myself rushing around. It was our last day at home before my husband, Larry, and I took the three-hour trip to our summer place on Lake Roosevelt. And summer was certainly in full swing.
Today the temperature hit 100 degrees. But Larry and I had a lot to take care of before we could get going. I grabbed the keys to my Subaru Outback.
“You take the truck to run your last-minute errands,” I said. “I’m headed to the nursery to get some plants for the summer house.”
I had no trouble spending the gardening gift certificate from my former colleagues. When I pulled out of the nursery my car was filled with hardy plants that could stand the blazing summer heat.
I straightened my glasses and turned up the AC. I’ll take the back road, I thought. Less traffic. We’d already loaded the beach towels and chairs into the car, but I was anxious to finish packing. I took a quick sip of water and fitted the cup back in the holder, which was always a little
tricky.
When I looked back at the road I realized I was heading into the gravel on the shoulder. I whipped the steering wheel in the opposite direction—too far in the opposite direction, and much too quickly. I lost all control.
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