I’m going to begin this column with two simple, everyday observations, both shaped by my experience as an older adult navigating our community. One happens behind the wheel. The other happens on foot.
Let’s start with driving.
My dry cleaner, bank, and coffee shop are all in the same strip mall. It’s a familiar spot, with parking on both sides of a narrow roadway running through the middle. I’m careful when backing out of a parking space before turning to leave, but even so, I often find myself hitting the brakes as a car speeds past behind me or a pedestrian suddenly appears in my path while I’m in reverse.
I usually visit this strip mall before or after work, and I get it—people are in a hurry. We’re all trying to get where we’re going. I also know that, ultimately, it’s my responsibility to make sure the coast is clear before backing up. Still, these moments feel more stressful than they used to.
My car is a 2009 SUV. It has a back-up camera, which helps, but it doesn’t have the driver-assistance features now common in newer vehicles—systems specifically designed to help when visibility is limited, and cross-traffic is a concern.
Many newer cars come equipped with Rear Cross-Traffic Alert, which detects vehicles approaching from the left or right and provides audible warnings or visual alerts. Some even vibrate the seat or steering wheel. In certain situations, the car will automatically apply the brakes if a collision seems likely. These systems are often paired with Blind-Spot Monitoring and Rear Pedestrian Detection, which can alert drivers to people walking behind the vehicle and, in some cases, automatically stop the car.
As the older adult driver of a 16-year-old vehicle, it’s hard not to notice how far safety technology has come—and how much these features can reduce anxiety and prevent accidents.
If I had one small wish, it would be that drivers move a bit more slowly and cautiously through parking lots. A few extra seconds can go a long way toward keeping everyone safe.
Now let’s talk about getting around on foot.
For reasons I can’t entirely explain, I’ve found myself more concerned this year about walking through shadows. It may be lingering PTSD from a serious fall a few years ago that left me with a broken nose, a broken orbital bone, and nerve damage to my face. Whatever the reason, I notice that I’m more deliberate and careful when stepping from bright light into shaded areas.
Winter brings a low sun and long shadows from buildings and trees. When I move into the shade, I naturally slow down and look toward the ground. Shadows can hide uneven pavement, curbs, steps, or debris—exactly the kinds of things that can cause a trip or fall.
I recently learned a fact that made me feel a little less cautious and a lot more normal: by age 60, our eyes need three times as much light to see as they did at age 20. No wonder shadows feel more challenging. As we age, it becomes harder to distinguish objects from their background, especially in low light. Our pupils don’t open as wide, less light gets in, and our eyes take longer to adjust when lighting changes.
One simple tip for managing glare is to invest in polarized sunglasses—and to remember to take them off when entering a shaded area.
Whether we’re driving or walking, aging asks us to slow down, pay closer attention, and make small adjustments. With a little patience—from ourselves and from one another—we can help make our shared spaces safer, more navigable, and more forgiving for everyone.
