At 91, I'm content to drive only down Memory Lane

My family didn't take the keys away. I did. After the last eye doctor appointment, I knew the time had come. At 91, I was doomed to live in a blurry world — without my car.

Like most folks, I felt that owning a car was not a luxury. It was my other home. I kept my coupons in it, my extra coins, an old scarf (this is Minnesota, after all), my water bottle, mints, my boots, the daily newspaper, a magazine (usually the New Yorker), an extra bathing suit, even another lipstick, just in case. I was proud of my car. It was my alter ego, and I drove it a lot.

It was an Audi — a big, beautiful, bronze-colored station wagon. Yes, it was old. But like all old things, it grew even more beautiful in my eyes, like the patina on a Summit Avenue staircase.

Sure, there have been other cars in my life. I still remember the first one — a used Studebaker, broken down, but all mine, paid for with my own money. One morning something rattled and shook underneath it, but I was determined to make it into downtown Minneapolis. The art directors at the ad agency where I worked guffawed at my story. No sympathy whatsoever.

"Bette, that's the crankshaft you're talking about," they said.

One said, "Better get your skis off the top."

When I left that agency for another job, the head art director presented me with a gift — a framed drawing of a tan Studebaker with a crooked shaft underneath and a blonde pulling it with her ski poles over her shoulder. The art directors all signed the print.

I was again lucky with the next job. It was the late 1950s when I landed a great PR assignment on the Minnesota Centennial staff and with it, a brand-new Chevy, shiny blue. I worked hard for two years, driving quite a few miles, but when the big events were all over, I had to give it back. Not too bad, considering I didn't have to pay for it.

Next, before my first marriage in 1961, I acquired a used VW Beetle. It was the cutest car ever, with just enough room for my 3-year-old and me. My husband drove a beautiful red and white Oldsmobile convertible. No wonder our marriage didn't last!

When I married again, this time happily, my architect husband was driving a 1973 Mercedes-Benz. We drove around in style until I needed a car. I chose something new and different — a Corvair, something of a disappointment from Chevrolet. It just didn't have enough gumption. So I traded it in for a used Mercury — basic, plain transportation.

After several years of happy driving, my husband and I traveled to Italy with our daughter, then 13, in 1977. That meant renting a car. We took turns driving a Fiat. What fun!

As we approached Rome, I drove and my husband navigated. I thought the space ahead looked wide open and classical — but where were all the people? Suddenly, several Italian cabineri came running up, looking upset. I stopped and rolled down the window. "No one drives across the Piazza Navona!" shouted a policeman. "Ever!"

We made one more trip to Europe before my husband died in 1986.

My grief journey took a while, but I knew getting back to work would help.

I traded in the old Mercedes for a used 1993 Audi. It was reliable for a long time, until it started leaking oil. That's when I acquired an Audi Allroad to begin the new century.

This was the car I really fell in love with. I loved the way it flowed down the highway. I drove it all over the Twin Cities and as far as Madeline Island. I felt safe in it. It was my nest away from home.

But as my eyesight weakened, my doctors cautioned that I should not drive at night. Finally, one said, kindly but firmly, "You know, Bette, I will have to call the limit for you next year."

No more freedom, I thought bleakly. No more spontaneous trips to happy hour.

But soon friends came to my rescue. Even better, younger friends informed me, "We don't need a car anymore; we just call Uber. We take it everywhere. You can, too."

I have! And I am no longer devastated.

I have fond memories of all the cars I owned. Who else can claim to have driven down the Piazza Navona with Italian police in pursuit!