Goodbye, old friend
Today I sold my Smart car, a Christmas present from John on our return from Paris in 2007 and the most reliable car I’ve ever owned.
I did not resist the urge to give it a farewell pat as my mind was overrun with memories of the times our family has shared in this car:
The captive time of close and meaningful chats with otherwise recalcitrant young people;
the coining of “Slap him in the face” to the tune of La Traviata’s Brindisi as revenge song for enervating bullies;
the regular weekly hour spent in the school run traffic jam invariably desperate for a wee;
the frantic dash from Saturday morning wind band to reach ballet class in time, getting changed and doing hair on the way;
the “Gita, I think I’m meant to be playing in a concert in 20 minutes and my parents aren’t home and I need to borrow a bow tie from my Grandpa. Can you take me?”
the repeated and utterly hilarious ” I just see this car and want to upend it” quips.
overtaking BMWs on the way from Bluewater because I could;
the late night party pickups (windows down just in case); the coffees; the last-minute singing warm ups;
being stopped by the police on suspicion of using my phone when I was just scratching my head;
returning to it the morning after the Moonwalk, weary and ready to tumble into bed.
This car has held so many memories for me. Walking away was truly the end of an era. May its next owner be granted as much joy in it as it has brought me.
6 Comments
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Someone will love it as dearly as you have done. It is clearly a vehicle that sparks joy.
Also for a moment when I saw the post’s title in my email in box I thought you were saying goodbye to someone else! Heart in mouth time!
OMG! I was exactly the same!
I continue not to publish the post to which I think you refer.
Oh. I was thinking of someone different entirely! My boy is still thriving, though with a touch of kennel cough this week.
Some cars find a special place in your life. Others are merely transport. My favourite car was a Saab convertible. Such fun times in that ….. oh and in the distant past, a blue MGB. which I had in Scotland. It always started, no matter how much frost and snow, while the Mercs and BMWs of neighbours refused to even cough.