Goodbye old friend

Today I had to say farewell to faithful friend—my first vehicle. Jimmy was a blue 2 door, well, Jimmy. I learned how to drive in him, bumpy turns & all. I took my newborn son to his first appointments in him. Sure, there were some bumps along the way, like the time he let me down one winter at work. But we worked out our problems with a mediator (an extension cord). Once a tree branch even fell on him while he was parked in front of the house, but I nursed him back to health. We were able to struggle through the other hard times, like when we bought a sedan to accommodate the baby car seat & assorted paraphernalia that made a 2 door vehicle impractical. Jimmy was relegated to the second vehicle status but we still maintained our relationship, until IT happened.

My husband drove Jimmy to work that day. Jimmy had been under the weather, so much so that no oil change or tune-up could remedy. I had to accept that there was no tonic to cure the disease. I received the fated phone call from my husband’s cell as he tried to drive home, “I think Jimmy is dying.” I could hear an odd noise in the background that I could only assume was the death knell of my beloved Jimmy. As my husband drove closer to home, I could hear Jimmy’s death throes a few blocks away. Jimmy was driven unceremoniously into our vacant back yard (remember that it’s a dirt pile), where he has been for 18 months.

Today, in the new truck, who I refuse to name, my husband & a friend tied a tow rope, nay noose, to Jimmy’s bumper and towed him to said friend’s home. I took a picture of Jimmy as he left & said goodbye. My only wish is that the friend’s son, who is taking high school mechanics, can work same Frankensteinian magic and revitalize Jimmy. Reincarnation anyone?