My grandfather-in-law is 90. His age notwithstanding he still bikes five miles a day. Or at least, he did. While we've all thought whatever ailment he was enduring at the time was going to be the end of his days on the bike (one doctor infuriated me by telling him he would be back on his bike five days after removing a third of his colon, but it was I eating crow when it turned out to be true - as an aside what I know about modern medical science is nill), a bike wreck caused a compression fracture on one of his vertebra which didn't reveal itself until a month later when he couldn't get out of bed.
As I work from home and am only 8-minutes away he called me early one morning for what turned out to be a 36-hour day of unprecedented activity.
But it was my dream which was the most interesting:
I was living here at the assisted living facility with him, and my wife and kids. He was working on his bicycle in the common garage. Where I was riding my son's unsteady bike with the tiny wheels and the super-high "chopper" style handlebars that I was ill-equipped to pilot given my size and weight comparatively.
At some point I left the garage and came back where my grandfather-in-law was underneath a precariously elevated red 4x4 Jeep, changing out what appeared to be overly complicated CV-joints. Not only changing them out, but disassembling them and machining internal parts for reassembly before reattaching them. Quite complicated work. So there he was shaking/tremors with his damaged spine, laying under a wobbly vehicle lifted dangerously by four different jack mechanisms. I was scared for his life.
And there were so many resident's bicycles in the common garage that other families coming in and out of the facility had to walk around a veritable obstacle course of them (the garage seemed to be the only ingress/egress point of the facility). So I put both my kids on one of those self-propelled scooters, disappointed that we had a battery-powered one rather than a gas-powered one, because with all three of us standing on it, it was very slow going up the asphalt grade and I was sure we were soon going to topple without adequate power.
My dream was rife with perilous imagery.