My girl

The story really started almost twenty years ago. Standing in line at Hardees waiting to get some biscuits and gravy with my dad. I was around 7 I think. He probably doesn't remember this conversation but I do. Vividly. You see, in my neighborhood, there was this high school girl. She drove a red 1965 mustang. I am pretty sure her name was Stephanie Hawkins and I thought she was the coolest person alive. I wanted to be just like her so that morning in Hardees I asked my dad if when I was in high school if I could have a red 1965 mustang just like her. He said, "I tell you what if you are valedictorian I will buy you a 1965 mustang.

Fast forward to senior year. I realized that I wasn't quite going to be valedictorian (only months later did I realize I was 1 little point in calculus away from it but that's another story) so I decided to remind my dad of the conversation and see if I couldn't negotiated a new deal. We agreed that I would get a new car based on scholarship offers. December of that year I wrecked the car he had gotten me at sixteen and got a nice scholarship letter from my #1 school. So on January 1, 2001, my dad bought her for me.

She was beautiful. Perfect. Even if she was a few years old. I instantly fell in love. This week, Clay and I will most likely be getting rid of her. In ways I am very happy but part of my heart is breaking.

She was with me the week my 12 closest friends and I headed to the beach to celebrate the end of high school and the beginning of our "real" lives -- you know, back when 30 sounded so old. I still treasure that picture of my two best guy friends asleep in the back seat cuddling each other and a teddy bear of mine.

She was with me the day I drove off to my #1 school. Complete with a letter in the dashboard from my dad telling me how amazing he thinks I am and how proud he was. (I just removed the letter yesterday) And she was with me the day I drove home to transfer schools.

She was with me for more camps than I can count. She has hauled everything from vats of salsa to more dish washing liquid than they sell in Walmart. Unfortunately, we had some spillage with the soap and to this day if you put some water in the back, the carpet will have suds.

She was there when I realized I loved Clay. He was driving when I looked over and then looked to the backseat. I could literally see our future kid seating in his carseat. It was then that I knew he was it for me.

She was there the day we packed up our world, waved goodbye and moved to Texas. She didn't carry much on the trip. She just transported the two most important things --- our dogs.

After just over 8 years, I have put over 96,000 miles on her. These days she is far from perfect. In fact, she probably has more things wrong than right.

But I still love her. And hate to see her go.


Jamie Mullins said...

Awww...I might just shed a tear for your car too! Great post my friend.

Steven said...

That was a nice epitaph for your car. I might just have to let you write my eulogy one day.

Runningmama said...

I am so with you Steven. Christy if I kick the bucket anytime soon, you are the #1 pick for my life's poetic documentation.

gn007 said...

Your Dad remembers! ----

Love ya---Your Daddy.