The Cab Ride…

THE LAST CAB RIDE

I arrived at the address and honked the horn.

After waiting a few minutes I honked again.

Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving 
away, but instead I put the cab in park and walked up to the door and knocked..

‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened.

A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had 
lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no nickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said.

I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness.

‘It’s nothing’, I told her. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want 
my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

 ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice.. ‘The doctor says I don’t have very long.’                              

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city.                              

She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds.

She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired. Let’s go now.​’

We drove in silence to the address she had given me.

It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already 
seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I answered.

‘You have to make a living,’ she said.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life…​

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought.

For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?

What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID. BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

Worth thinking about as we start the Christmas season… It’s not the gifts, it’s not the dinners, it’s the personal interactions…

h/t Ev

 

Comments

The Cab Ride… — 27 Comments

  1. (softly) Thank you for this, sir.

    In the end, all we have is our faith and each other – which two items I believe are one and the same.

  2. At least she had some resemblance of her life to look at and remember. Most of my world has changed so much, I’m not even sure, sometimes, if I am even on the right street. But the point of the story is well taken. Doing or saying something at the right time (or without even knowing it) can change someone’s whole day. I’ll try.

  3. Dang. Must have gotten some dust in my eye. That one will stay with me for a long time. Thanks.

  4. When my wife’s grand uncle was 98 he had had a stroke and was pretty down on life. I asked him if he wanted to make the trip up the mountain for lunch a deer camp on opening day. He said yes and his nurse agreed to come with him. We bundled him up and he had lunch, stay in camp and had a sip of blackberry brandy with us when the hunt was over. Did the same when he was 99. Didn’t get a deer either year but all and all it was two great hunts.

  5. Great story. As I told my kids when they were growing up—Everything that you choose to do, or not to do, will affect someone, somewhere, some day. You never know when the smallest thing may make the biggest difference.

  6. Spent the day with my elder brother in meetings and tours of assisted living places for my 97 YO mother. She’s failing and in need of, well y’all know.
    I hope I can supply something like what the cabbie did.
    Long story, My artist mother, bought a used Jaguar 120 sports car for her husband in 1960. She though it was the most beautiful car ever made. They used it for 15 years & then stored it. I have it now and have maintained it & drive it sparingly.
    If God is willing, she’ll have another ride in it, top down, exhaust howling.
    Well done Jim.

  7. It took a few moments to recover from this totally unexpected post.

    My wife of almost a half-century is in a nursing home with “not much time left”, so this particular post hit very close to home.

    None the less, it is still a wonderful thing to read, and the kindness shown by you to this dying women is awe-inspiring.

    There may be hope for the human race after all.

  8. Roger- That is great, and I hope you can!

    Drjim- yep

    Bob- I can’t credit, but the story resonates.,,

  9. My aunt used that same scam to get a free cab ride. Works every time.