Driving Miss Daisy

Jessica Tandy as Miss Daisy ... a grumpy, well-to-do, 72-year-old white Jewish woman living in the deep South in 1948. Morgan Freeman as Hoke Colburn ... an easy-going, confident, 56-year-old African American gentleman who had worked for many years as a chauffeur for a local judge until the judge passed away. Dan Aykroyd as Boolie ... Miss Daisy's wise-cracking, opinionated, adult son who (after his mom has an accident while driving her car), hires Hoke to be his mom's driver. The film won four Academy Awards, including Best Picture and Best Actress, and for my younger readers ... you should Netflix it or Hulu it or whatever it is you guys do to watch old movies ... it is one of the greatest movies of all time, filled with meaning and depth and emotion. There are so many lessons about friendship and trust and aging and life and death in Driving Miss Daisy that I couldn't begin to even scratch the surface in this post. But as I watched the movie last weekend, one particular truth seemed to jump right off the television screen and into my heart.

When Boolie first told Miss Daisy that he had hired a driver for her, she protested adamantly, saying that people would think she was elderly or that she was loaded with money ... funny thing is that both of those things were indeed true. Miss Daisy was a stubborn gal, and when Hoke first came to work as her driver, she took off on foot and walked to the local Piggly Wiggly with Hoke following behind her in the car. By necessity she is forced into allowing Hoke to drive her to the various places she needs to go, and as the story progresses, Miss Daisy and Hoke become the best of friends. The movie ends with Hoke visiting Miss Daisy in the retirement home where she went to live when she developed dementia ... Hoke is 97 and Miss Daisy is 113, and the final scene shows Hoke feeding Miss Daisy a piece of pumpkin pie as he remembers the years he spent as her driver.

As I watched the movie with tears streaming down my face ... I don't think I've ever been able to watch that film without crying, by the way ... I was struck with how hard Miss Daisy fought against having Hoke be her driver. She was a strong, independent woman, and to allow someone else to drive her around went against everything in her. But ... but ... but ... Hoke driving Miss Daisy was to keep her safe, to protect her ... it was for her own good. And Miss Daisy eventually not only realizes that she needs Hoke to drive her, she also forges a lasting friendship with him that spans several decades and holds strong even when they are both nearing the end of their lives. Laying on my couch sobbing, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between Miss Daisy and myself. There was a time in my walk with diabetes that I had a ton of blood sugar issues ... issues that dictated that someone else would take the keys to my car from me and drive me home. I had a gigantically tough time with that ... with relinquishing control, with allowing someone else to drive me, with losing some of my independence. When I had to have fasting blood work, someone had to drive me to the doctor, and yes, I was a bear about it ... throwing a fit and threatening every time to drive myself. I've finally given up on that one, though ... someone always drives me to those fasting appointments.

So here's the thing ... just like Miss Daisy, I came to a point of acceptance that there were times that I simply shouldn't be behind the wheel of a car. I didn't worry about having an accident and hurting myself, but I did begin to worry about having an accident and hurting someone else. And just like Miss Daisy, it was after I reached the point of acceptance that I was able to appreciate the gift God had given me in people who were not only willing to drive me when I needed to be driven but who cared enough about me to step in and insist on doing the driving from time to time. And now? Now I actually breathe a sigh of relief and gratitude when I don't have to drive, when someone else is with me and I can toss them my keys and say, "You can drive." And it's not because I'm having blood sugar issues, it's because I've learned that not being in the driver's seat is sometimes for my own good.

Hey, God ... here are my keys ... You can drive.