Yesterday I drove a woman about my age from the hospital in Bellingham to the ferry dock in Anacortes. It's about 50 miles south of here.
It takes an hour.
That's an hour of a passenger who was very talkative.
She had spent 6 days at the hospital because of an esophageal bleed. Her third one in three years.
By the time we got to the ferry terminal she had regaled me with stories of her poor health and near death experiences.
Most of the people I drive have mental or physical problems or are elderly. I get a lot of stories. It makes me thankful for my good health, and grateful that I don't suffer from chronic pain.
Sometimes I get into a funk about my life and that, at 51, I don't have much to show for it.
Then I get a passenger who is fighting every day just to get out of bed and function.
I am thankful for my good health, that I am not living under crushing debt, that I have a job and people in my life who care about me.
Sometimes, it just takes a good kick in the ass by a stranger to make me appreciate.