Rolling with Marlee: A Dream in Motion

There are dreams that feel big. And then there are dreams that feel personal. This one is both.

Lately, I’ve been holding onto a vision—one that’s simple on the surface, but layered with love, responsibility, and possibility. It’s the dream of having a vehicle that allows me to move through the world with my parents—not just transport them, but truly experience life together again.

I’ve been calling it, quietly to myself:

Rolling with Marlee.

More Than a Ride

My father had a stroke.

He is now wheelchair-bound and nonverbal, but still very much here—present, aware, and deserving of joy.

My mother is his primary caregiver. And if you’ve ever known a caregiver, you know: love and exhaustion often live side by side.

So this dream?

It’s not just about a car.

It’s about:

• Getting them out of the house with ease
  
  

• Turning routine doctor visits into small adventures
  
  

• Creating moments that feel light instead of heavy
  
  

• Giving my mother a break from the constant weight of caregiving
  
  

• Giving my father the dignity of movement, of presence, of being seen in the world
  
  

Because dignity should not depend on mobility.

But What If It Could Also Be… Beautiful?

Here’s where Marlee comes in.

If we’re going to do this—if we’re going to move differently—why not do it with style?

Why not joy?

Why not something that makes people smile when we pull up?

Today, I went to see the Volkswagen ID. Buzz.

And let me tell you…

I fell in love.

It’s nostalgic and futuristic at the same time. It feels like freedom. It feels like sunshine on wheels. It feels like something that could turn even an ordinary Tuesday into something worth remembering.

But here’s the reality:

As it stands, it’s not built for families like mine.

Not yet.

The Gap Between Innovation and Inclusion

We talk a lot about innovation.

Electric vehicles. Smart design. The future of mobility.

But accessibility?

Too often, it’s an afterthought.

And yet—there are so many of us living in this “in-between” space:

• Raising children
  
  

• Caring for aging parents
  
  

• Navigating disability
  
  

• Trying to hold onto joy in the middle of it all
  
  

We don’t just need functional solutions.

We deserve beautiful, thoughtful, inclusive design.

We deserve to move through the world without feeling like we had to compromise dignity for practicality.

A Letter, A Possibility

So I wrote a letter.

To Volkswagen.

I told them about my family. About my dad. About my mom. About this dream.

I asked a simple but bold question:

What would it look like to create something like the ID. Buzz that is fully accessible—not as an afterthought, but as a model?

Not just for me.

But for the thousands—millions—of families navigating life just like this.

Families who would absolutely choose a vehicle like this if it met them where they are.

Families who want to move through the world not just safely—but joyfully.

My Letter to VW:

I am writing to you not only as a potential customer, but as someone who sees extraordinary possibility in the spirit of the Volkswagen ID. Buzz.

Like many Americans, I find myself in a season of life that is both full and complex—raising children while also caring for my aging parents. My father suffered a serious stroke 10 years ago and is wheelchair-bound, and my mother is his primary caregiver. Getting them out of the house—whether for medical appointments or simply to experience joy beyond their daily routine—has become both a necessity and a challenge.

When I first saw the ID. Buzz, I saw more than a vehicle. I saw possibility. I saw smiles. I saw dignity, joy, and movement.

I began to imagine what it would look like to transport my parents in a way that felt not clinical or utilitarian, but vibrant and life-affirming. The current landscape of wheelchair-accessible vehicles, while functional, often lacks the spirit, beauty, and emotional uplift that your design so effortlessly delivers.

At the same time, I understand that the ID. Buzz, in its current design, may not easily accommodate a wheelchair-accessible conversion without significant modification. That is precisely why I am reaching out.

Would Volkswagen consider exploring a test case—converting an ID. Buzz into a fully wheelchair-accessible vehicle?

I would be honored to partner with you in this effort. My family and I would serve as real-world users, offering insight, feedback, and lived experience to help shape what could become a new model for accessible mobility. I would also document this journey through social media—sharing the transformation, the everyday realities of caregiving, and the joy that a vehicle like this could bring to families like mine.

There is a growing community of people—many of us part of the “sandwich generation”—who are looking for solutions that meet both practical needs and emotional ones. We want vehicles that are not only functional, but that restore a sense of normalcy, pride, and even delight. The ID. Buzz has the unique potential to do exactly that.

While questions about battery range and charging infrastructure are always part of the conversation, for families like mine—who are primarily traveling locally for appointments, errands, and short outings—the current capabilities are more than sufficient. What matters most is accessibility, ease, and experience.

This could be more than a single vehicle. It could be a prototype for a new category—one that blends accessibility with design, innovation, and joy.

I would welcome the opportunity to discuss this idea further and explore what a collaboration might look like. Thank you for continuing to push the boundaries of what mobility can be—not just in technology, but in how it makes people feel.

With appreciation and hope,
-Marlee

Rolling with Marlee

This isn’t just about a van.

It’s about a shift.

It’s about documenting the journey—doctor visits, quiet rides, laughter, hard days, beautiful days.

It’s about showing what it looks like to carry both responsibility and joy.

It’s about building something that reflects who we are:

Resilient. Loving. Creative. Still dreaming.

So maybe this becomes something bigger.

Maybe “Rolling with Marlee” becomes a series. A story. A movement.

Or maybe it’s just us—finding our way back into the world, one ride at a time.

Either way…

We’re going to roll.

And we’re going to do it with love.

What Would Freedom Look Like for You?

If you could design the perfect vehicle for your life—your family, your reality—what would it look like?

Because I have a feeling I’m not the only one dreaming like this.