Time moves on and things change. My beloved 2005 Toyota has seen me through eleven years of motoring with nary a word of complaint. I’ve driven her off road, into and out of and across ditches, dug her out of sand and mud, and over tracks that would scare an experienced ATV driver. Through the whole 385,000 km of our journeys together she has been my constant companion. That era has ended.
I was gifted a new car by my regrettably deceased father in law Bob. After a long fight with an assortment of ailments he finally succumbed and went to his rest, peacefully. Before doing so he made arrangements. One of which included transferring ownership of his 2014 car to me. This incredibly generous gift was fulfilled by his grieving spouse, Pam. We signed the paperwork on Friday.
The new vehicle has only 53,000km on the clock. The suspension still works. There are no fluid leaks. No weird noises. No squealing belts, no wheel imbalances, and (the final straw for the outgoing queen) no rusting and leaking gas tank. She’s a good ‘un. But. I will miss my Toyota. We have been through a lot together. A lot.
So I wanted to take her out for one last trip, into the wilds of Niagara, to say goodbye. We went, we saw, we came back. I turned off the engine, patted her on the steering wheel, and locked the doors. She will sit patiently on the driveway, waiting for me to throw my camera bag on the passenger seat at some silly hour of the morning and head off Somewhere In Niagara. I can’t yet bring myself to do more than leave her sitting there. After everything, it would feel like a betrayal. So there she sits. Each time I pull up behind her in the shiny wonderful new car, guilt washes over me. This is crazy, I know.
But I feel it. I still love that car.
