When I sat in her for the first time at the dealership, she promised me that if I took her home she would always protect the people inside, never brake down in unsafe places and live forever. Well, she was true to the first two and probably intended to capture immortality as well. Then the years (and the children, the dog and the junk in the trunk) began to wear her down and we started replacing vital parts. I asked her, begged her to hang in there for five more years. It took her about 10 years to realize there really was no 5 year finish line. As she grew progressively more tired and worn out I could hear her heavy sighs of resignation as I would repair her and put her back on the road. Lately, as I begged her to go 5 more years, she was silent. Supportive, but silent.
Shes been purging her oil in huge quantities. Too many leaks in every direction for one who has no motor-medical skills and can no longer afford to hire those who do. I thought she was really finished this time.... not because she really had reached her mortal end, but because I had failed her. I could no longer fund her repairs. What is a car (with a soul) to do when the metal is junked? Is that stupid to worry about such things?
Thankfully, my motor-medical mechanic had fallen in love with her over the years. He could see her potential under his attentive (and free of charge) automotive expertise. So while I miss her terribly (no offense to the little purple Hyundai which has committed to putt for all she's worth) I'm grateful that she is getting the care she needs and deserves. And I hope to see her again...in passing.
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