The Old Retired Taxi Driver

A few posts back I talked about "Car Chat" and in that I had said that my mom wrote a poem about all of her years of driving my sister and I to our activities. She emailed me the poem this morning and I thought I would share it with you.

Although I am glad she (my sister) will be able to drive soon, it is also a very sad time for me. . . . my taxi and carpool days are over! I put in a good 20 years (from the time Household Executive was born until the time AM was able to drive). 20 years, whoa, that seems weird. So, that means I am a retired Taxi driver? Although the monetary pay was not good, I would highly recommend the job to anyone. For the rewards are priceless.

The Old Retired Taxi Driver
I wouldn't trade anything in the world for:
The conversations I have heard in my Taxi,
The laughter that bellowed out loudly,
The sneaky little giggles,
The excitement shared when news of a possible boyfriend developed,
The hushed whispers of secrets too private for Mom to know about,
The joy, the fun, the grumpiness, and silence so thick you could cut it with a knife.
The spilled drinks, and the spilled tears.
The tears caused by disappointments, school frustrations, mean boys, and catty girls.
The tears left me feeling helpless and inadequate as I would search for ways to help my passengers.
The wheels of my Taxi turned daily for 20 years.
The pay I received was awful.
The rewards I received are priceless memories.



written by Big Mama*
November 13, 1999


*name has been changed to protect the identity :) And, yes she goes by Big Mama...pretty funny considering she is 5'1".