There was a man who lived on my street who drove way way way into old age. His car was literally covered from front to back in dents. You’d see him walking to his car so slowly it was painful. He’d struggle to get the door open, hop in, and take off. It seemed like he had a new dent every time he came home.

I knew another man though, WWII vet, 98 years old. His wife was 93. He’d come to my store and buy cigars for himself and cigarettes for the wife. He had no issues getting around at all. I was legit shocked when I found out how old he was. His health deteriorated so quickly seemingly out of nowhere and he was still trying to drive, but fortunately his daughter stepped in and put an end to it.

Now his daughter has dementia. One day she stopped in to buy cigarettes for her mom and she asked me if I knew her son. It kind of took me by surprise. I’ve known the whole family for 20 years at this point.

Her son had a serious car accident in the mid 2000s and he’s been in a wheelchair since. He lost both of his legs, half of one of his hands, fingers burned off at the ends on the other. He barely survived.

She was telling me about the accident like it had just recently happened. She was crying, said almost word for word what she’d said to me all those years ago while he was in the hospital. Such a surreal experience.

Next time I seen her she asked me again, “Do you know my son?”

Then she tried to pay for her fuel 3 times back to back.

She’s still driving. Everyone knows that she’s experiencing these problems including the local police, but she’s still out there driving around.