My Blue Heaven
But then. Then we went to the next town over and all by its lonesome on a Ford dealership’s back lot… there it sat. The zillion degree sun gleaming from the perfect blue of a freezing alpine lake (or so it seemed to me). Maybe in reality it wasn’t all by its lonesome, but when I saw it, the angels sang from heaven and everything else disappeared.
I’m not really a car person. I swear. But something about my little civic sitting there, well, it got to me. I fell in love. With an inanimate object.
It *was* out of my price range, as it turns out, but my mother saw that gleam in my eye and together we sat in a booth at a Wendy’s and figured out how we could make it work.
I know it sounds crazy. It’s not like I was homeless. Far from it, in fact. But the summer that I bought my car was the summer that my parents moved out of my childhood home and away from my childhood town. I was adrift, with a college apartment shared with three other girls (including Laura!) and no sense of true belonging.
so this weekend when we bought a new family car and had to get rid of one of our old cars, we were all set to sell my little blue honda (which, admittedly, is somewhat worse for wear after 175 thousand miles) to my 16-year-old nephew. But as it neared, I began feeling more sad and more anxious about the transaction by the hour. Finally, at the last minute, I decided that I just couldn’t go through with it. And as soon as I made the decision I knew it was the right thing to do. A weight lifted off my shoulders. My civic and I will live to drive another day.
We totally bait-and-switched my poor nephew into buying our old volvo sedan. The volvo was a much nicer car and a better value for his money, but also a bit more grandpa-ish. But hey, as he said himself, a car is a car!
And it is. Unless of course it’s my trusty little civic. She may rattle and shake and strain on the hills, and most of the paint might be slowly wearing from her shiny blue roof, she might even have duct tape somewhere under the hood… but she’s all mine. and for now, she’s going to stay that way.