I drove home in the shiny new car, expecting a sense of joy, a sense of well-being from making a decision about my transporation that I put off for several years.
My drive for the last six years has taken a toll on me and my automobile. Forty-two miles of changing highway and two-lane roads past gravel pits and behind trucks dumping on my car, their cement and rocks damaging my paint on my car, made me determined to not purchase a new car until I had a different place to work. By some miracle, I have been on that new job for three weeks. Tonight was the night I chose to buy a new car.
Just to indicate my difficulty, I bought the same model by the same manufacturer, just a pretty silver color instead of the sand beige with a hint of gold sparkle in the paint of my older model. I loved my old car. It had 180,000 highway miles and never gave me a day's grief. Unfortunately, the exterior had a painful story of abuse from the trucks and four collisions, including one head-on. It's own paint puckered and peeled of its own choosing in addition to its troubles from the environment. The fake crome on the hub caps was long gone.
Yet, I drove that car every day of my life for six years. I faithfully changed the oil every 3000 miles and occasionally had some preventive maintenance. Even with its multi-colors of sand to beige, resulting from the accident repairs, it was a faithful car. I packed all my belongings in that car for my last major move from Key West to Florida six years ago. I threw my bike in the trunk that expanded with seats that folded down and headed for the bike paths without automobiles. I carried my family and friends and their families and friends to parties and dinners and each other's homes. That car saw my tears and my joy and heard me fighting with my bird over radio choices.
So, on my way home in my shiney new car, all my thoughts are on memories of my days in the old car. I see it sitting, lonely, waiting to be hauled to some junk yard because it's not fit for resale. I feel it wondering why I abandoned it when it was so faithful and reliable, even to 30 miles per gallon on the highway. I don't think it will understand that the exterior was becoming an embarassment. I just needed to feel classy when I stepped out, not like I was on my last dime.
I have twenty-four hours to change my mind.
Causes DK Christi Supports