As I sit here writing this my car is currently on jacks the hood, trunk, and drivers side door wide open my gas tank on the shop floor if only it were my fuel pump but it isn’t and as I watch them my heart is breaking.
It isn’t just a car to me. I can tell you where every ding, scratch, and the stain is from, my salt life sticker I picked out when we were in Pensacola after a trip to Orange Beach Alabama even though we don’t live anywhere near a beach. My initials crooked on the back glass, my beads are from the AFSP walk along with a discolored brown and pink polka dot ribbon I bought for my daughter but that it looked better on my mirror. I remember driving my husband’s old beat up green S-10 with no insulation and holes in the floor board. The seat was nothing more than pieces of wood and I had to sit all the way forward just to drive it. The gas hand didn’t work so you had to guess when it needed gas and a “security” switch (it had to be hard wired because of a problem with the ignition switch.) but it got me to work and home amazingly with minimal problems. I’ll never forget the day I went to the car dealership and drove my car for the first time. I fell in love and I had to have it.
I remember going to Jacksonville Florida just a week after we bought it. I had Sirius radio for free and drove all night drinking red bull and berry smoothies from McDonald’s we fell asleep in the beach and got so sunburned. This car drove all the way to Naples, Florida and back which is a 9 hour drive. We took it on all the family vacations but it was there for me. It was there for me when I needed to scream at the steering wheel when I had a bad day, it took me to the drs appointment and later to and from the psych hospital. I drove it when I was high, manic and severely depressed. It took me to my spot on the lake where I sat on the same concrete making my suicide videos. It survived all the times I drove high especially the few times I ran off the road, all the times I almost rear ended someone trying to find the perfect song on my phone. It survived every move, angry fight when I sped off or took my computer hid in my car crying.
Godspeed Jolene you were an emotional attachment I wasn’t ready to let you go yet especially with the new job but know that you will always have a place in my heart. I have emotional attachment issues so this one hit me hard.