The last car he owned before he died was a 1999 Buick Roadmaster station wagon. What a boat that thing was! After he died, my mother-in-law continued to drive it. She had a horrible time with it, because parking lots were no longer designed for vehicles like it. Soon, it collected dings and dents. But, she wanted nothing to do with the idea of replacing it, until its transmission failed after a few years.
Since replacing the transmission would have cost more than the car was worth, my wife and I convinced her that it was time for the Roadmaster to move on. She finally agreed to buy a new car, so we went car shopping. One after another smaller car she looked at got rejected. It was a long, long day of her trying to get in and out of cars that had seats that were too low, doors that were too small, and ergonomics that didn't suit her 80 year old self.
We were about to give up, when I drove past a Chrysler Jeep dealer. There, out in the front of their lot was a line of PT Cruisers. On a whim, I pulled in. They were all lease returns, with low mileage and very good prices. I walked her to a white one, and opened the driver's door so she could look into the car, and then asked her to hop in and check it out. A salesman showed up, but I waved him off. My mother-in-law sat on the seat, not down into the seat. She grasped the steering wheel as if to drive. "I like this one," she said. It's easy to get into." Then she got out. I opened the rear hatch for her. She liked the adjustable shelf. "I could put my groceries on that, without bending over," she said.
"Would you like to try driving it?" I asked. She nodded, so I waved to the salesman, who came over and went with her on a brief test drive. They came back, and M-i-L said, "I like this car very much. How much does it cost?" The sticker price on it was about $13,000, which was how many miles it had on it. A lifetime power train warranty the salesman said it had.
"I'll take it," my wife's mother said, and we went in so she could write a check for the full price. She drove it home and into her garage, where it took up about half the space of the old Roadmaster. She didn't know it, but that Roadmaster was not the car for her. That PT Cruiser was. She loved it. Easy to park, easy to drive, easy to do whatever she needed it to do.
When she died, a few years later, it still didn't have 30,000 miles on it. I drove it on longer trips, like to her home town of Sioux Falls. She drove it around town. Her little PT Cruiser made her happy. "Look," she said. "It has this strap that helps me get out of the car." Simple.
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