The reality is that some people are simply disinterested in driving. It holds no interest for them. Famously, the science fiction writer Ray Bradbury, I recall, as well as one of the world's brainiest men, Albert Einstein, didn't drive. They saw no reason to. So, I guess I could say I am in some luminary company that I don't.

Not that I don't sometimes wonder why I balked at learning. My husband urged me to, and years ago did his best to try to get me involved in learning how to drive. I rarely lasted after one lesson's worth. But when I reached the age of 60 I thought it really was time to get myself behind the wheel of a car. I took a driver's education course and with it driving lessons. My husband, when he went out driving with me so I could practise my driving skills before heading off to do a driver's test, thought I was an excellent driver.

But then, pffft! I just couldn't bother any longer, and gave it up. My husband tried to convince me to continue but the impetus to proceed simply had vanished. And so, I've never really driven. I do have my original, temporary driver's license, and I felt confident behind the wheel of a car. I was never nervous or uncertain, knew what to do, how to do it, and when. At times it seemed enjoyable, but never enough to prod me to continue. And so I didn't.

When our granddaughter turned 17, for her birthday gift we paid for driving lessons for her. She thought this was a skill that would be useful for her, and we agreed. The driving lessons went well, and so did her driving comfort, although she expressed some concerns about driving that I don't recall ever feeling myself. I told her those feelings of insecurity would vanish once she had more experience and had her driver's license.

Her schoolfriends not only had achieved their goals in getting their permanent driver's licenses, but several by then had their own cars. To that end, we promised our granddaughter that we'd give her our silver Honda coupe with the sun roof that she was so fond of. It had a mere 9,000 kilometres of driving, though it was a 1998 model. It had been babied by my husband, never driven in the winter.

She had that car in her mother's garage for a full year. With a mere several occasions practising driving it, her mother sitting beside her, throughout the summer months. And then her interest lapsed entirely. She never did bother trying out for her permanent license. And now she is living in residence in Toronto, attending the University of Toronto. What need is there in Toronto for a university student to own a car?

It was returned to us, and now it'll be sold; no point continuing to pay insurance on a vehicle we don't need, after all. Her eighteenth birthday gift from us, after all, is comprised of paying for her residence and university attendance.