But It's Only a Car

Call me sentimental, but I have a hard time parting ways with cars I've owned. My first car was a 1988 Plymouth Grand Voyager. Drove it until the transmission started messing up on it. It had almost 200,000 miles on it at the time. By the time it died, I had gotten married, so my hubby bought me another Plymouth Grand Voyager - only this time it was a 2000 model. We wound up giving that car to some friends of ours because they had more kids than we did. With both vehicles, I had a crying party after driving away. So many memories.

But this week, my husband finally parted with his car. I didn't think I'd have that hard a time with it until I started doing some thinking. So, if you don't mind listening, I would like to tell you a story about the little car that meant so much to us.

Let's set the scene: summer 2002, beautiful day outside, and I was excited. Tim and I were supposed to be going on our second date that night. He wanted to take me to Outback Steakhouse and I'd never been there before. I was busy getting ready at my parents' house when the phone rang. No one recognized the number, so we let it go to the voice mail. The caller left a message so we checked it. It was Tim. He had been in an accident. From the sound of it, it wasn't too bad, but he was being taken to the hospital.

When I arrived at Riverside, Tim filled me in on all the details. His Rodeo had been hit by another driver under the influence of drugs. The SUV had flipped in the air and was totaled. (There was also a large gash in his arm that required surgery.) He was fine but this meant he would need a new car. He looked around and finally found a 1999 Chevy Cavalier with super-low miles and in his price range. It was a base model so there was nothing fancy about it. Just a car to get him from point A to B.

Tim made up for the date that he cancelled and more. But by the end of the year, things were getting weird. We were both immature and needed some time to grow up. I didn't realize this at the time, though. On New Year's Day 2003, we were having dinner at my grandparents' house with the family. Tim came but he was acting strange. After dinner, he took me out to that car. There, he told me we were done. He just wanted to be friends. Friends? Just friends? With the guy I thought I was going to marry one day? This was a hard pill to swallow.

Any time I saw his car after that, I dreaded it. It only meant more pain or drama. We were still going to the same church, so I saw that car at least 2-3 times a week for a few months. Then...I didn't. Didn't see him or the car, I mean. He went to visit his family in Kansas for a week or so. After that, he went on sea trials for the USS Ronald Reagan. Time had come and gone, and so had our immaturity. We grew up in the months we were apart. Now, it was July 4th. Tim called me and asked if I would like to spend some time with his family who had come to visit for the day. I jumped at the offer. That day, we started our relationship over again. But this time, we were ready.

What a year 2003 was! It started terribly but was getting better as the days went on. Yet, as New Year's Day 2004 came closer, it brought old feelings back. I had a fear in the back of my mind of that holiday because of the meeting we had in his car the previous year. Again, we were supposed to meet my family for dinner that night. This time, we were going out to Golden Corral. Tim picked me up in that dreadful car. The trip over was pretty quiet. When we got in the parking lot, he looked down at the shifter and said, "There's something I need to tell you." I'm thinking...Oh, great, here it comes... Then he said, "Will you marry me?" and pulled out a ring. I was shocked! It took me a minute but I said YES!

That car also helped me realize how great a husband Tim would really be. Tim had picked me up to hang out at his condo one night. He was working on something and asked if I would run with his car to get some pizza. It was just across the street so I volunteered. On my way back, the pizza box fell to the floor. I reached down to grab it when I felt a thud. I looked up to realize I had crashed the car into some hedges. I panicked and wasn't sure what to do. You'd think hitting the brakes would have been the first thing to come to mind...but no. I turned the wheel to avoid more damage, only causing more. I finally stopped the car and noticed the side mirror was laying on the ground. I picked it up while my heart raced. What would he say?! I got back to the condo carrying a pizza box and mirror in my hands while crying my eyes out. He looked at me and said, "Are you okay?" I told him the story and we went out to look at the car. He was so patient and understanding. Not once did he look angry or raise his voice at me. He said it was only a car and he was just glad I was okay. He popped the mirror back on and we never really spoke of it again. What a great guy I had!

That summer, July 31 to be exact, Tim and I got married in the back yard of a friend's house. The car that took us for the first time as a married couple? The little car. The car that parked alone in the driveway of our first house? The little car. The car I drove to go out by myself with my son for the first time - in the pouring rain? The little car. The car that holds so many stories and memories that I could not write them all here? That darling little car.

Tim was driving home from work early November 2011 when the car stopped running. He was close to home, so he got it to start a few more times to get him there. All the water had leaked out of the car, so he filled it again. But it wasn't in there long. Over the course of the month, he replaced the water pump, thermostat, and finally, the radiator. After they all failed to help the problem, we came to the conclusion the head was cracked. No more car. We decided to donate the vehicle to the Purple Heart program. The tax write-off would be better than any cash we could get for the car. So, we setup the appointment for them to pick up the car.

Here it is (above), as I left my driveway on December 9. When I got back, it was gone. But it will not be forgotten.

We currently own a 1993 GMC Suburban Truck and 2005 Jeep Liberty, both we've had for 2 years. And on December 7, we added a 2005 Dodge Grand Caravan to our family that I will be driving. I look forward to making more memories in our vehicles in the years to come. Let's pray that they are all good ones!