Have you ever cherished something so much you dang near fall apart when it stops working properly?
That’s how I feel about my car…or should I say “felt” about my former car.
For months I’ve noticed him struggling to gain speed. Then he began idling pretty rough, despite a recent tune up. I tried to ignore it. Patch him up in hopes of moving forward.
Then, it all came to a head two weeks ago when I went to pick up Shorty from school. I was literally puttering along the interstate at speeds at a whopping 55mph. It was then reality had finally settled in: my baby’s transmission was failing yet again. (insert sob here)
Follow me here for a second—I bought that car when Shorty was only two weeks old. Two weeks! It was economical and very dependable.
It’s gotten us to work and back—preschool to primary school. It’s taken us on impromptu family vacations, and even served as a shuttle for the soccer team.
Witnessing the demise of my special, metal friend, was a hard and bitter pill to swallow.
It’s been a week and I’m finally accepting the old adage “all good things must come to an end.”