Yesterday I said goodbye to my trusty little Ford Escort. It was 11 years old and full of good memories.
Mom and I drove to and from seminary and school nearly every day of high school in that car. Mom heard all about the days' hopes and tests and highs and lows on those five-minute drives.
I learned to drive and passed the driving test in that car.
I felt the thrill of teenage freedom driving to the metroparks to sit by myself or going to and from parties, malt shops, and thrift stores with friends with the music up a little too loud.
Once the Mystique died in college, Mom and Dad gave me and Steve the Escort to share. We drove it to California one weekend together and just hung out at the beach and Grandma's house.
That was the summer I started dating Sam and he says we had our first kisses in the car in the Escort. I'm pretty sure that's what we were driving on the day we got engaged nearly a year later.
I learned how to change the brakes, change a tire, fix a headlight, and take care of plenty of other minor maintenance issues on it.
And since we've moved to Texas, it's gotten me to work, doctors' appointments, playgroups, lunch dates with Sam, and anywhere else I wanted to go.
Sadly, just before the end of last year, the transmission died and we've only been able to drive in second gear, so no faster than 40, and that was a stretch. It started shaking while it idled and the rotors got warped, so it took longer to brake than usual, and we decided it was time to finally say goodbye.
After a little research, Sam made the painstakingly slow drive up to Carmax and traded her in. She served us well yet again and we got the blue book value for it. I went up to meet him and sign some papers later that evening and drove home in this, a 2008 Ford Escape.
I can't wait for all the memories yet to be made.