Well, most people laughed at our 1987 Camry. My parents used to gently ask us to park in the back of the house when we were there for a visit. Commuters in the slug line didn't jump for joy when they realized the door they were trying to open wasn't just locked, it was jammed. At one time only one of the four doors opened. I laugh at the mental image of my husband crawling out the passenger side door in his suit and briefcase.
But this car was the first car we bought.
We brought our kid's home from the hospital in this car.
I know, it's just a car.
Justin has a trusty mechanic that he always took the car to. The mechanic calmly put his hand on Justin's shoulder the last time we were there and quietly said in his broken English, "Sometimes you just have to know when to let go."
2 comments:
I get sentimental about my car. It has feelings. Shane laughs at me because I animate everything. Right now my van is in the shop which I won't divulge the reason for fear of my family mocking me horribly, but I miss it and I think it misses me and I wonder how it is feeling with its new parts. Now you know more than I should have shared.
I know how you feel. I am still driving the car my husband picked me up in for our first date, and have so far resisted all signs that it might be time to get a new car.
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