|Saying goodbye to my old companion.|
Last weekend, I exchanged one set of keys for another and walked away from a companion I’ve had most of my adult life. I have a new, safer, more spacious vehicle that is better suited for transporting children and taking family trips. In the process, I traded in my old sedan I bought 11 years ago, shortly after graduating from college and getting my first real job as a newspaper editor.
I started waxing sentimental while I cleaned out my car the night before my husband and I bought the new vehicle. I breathed in the familiar scent of the carpeted seats and the leather and plastic interior, and memories from the past decade rushed back. I told my father-in law the next day, while he accompanied my husband and me at the dealership, that even though I was looking forward to letting go of my old car, I was a little sad now that the moment had come. My father-in law nodded in understanding.
“It’s always hard to give up a car,” he said. “You go through so much with it.”
I spent years driving my sedan around on newspaper business. As my paper’s faith editor, I traveled to just about every church in town at some point, as well as the Islamic center and the Jewish congregation. When Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ came out, my town’s movie theatre was delaying showing the movie, so two local pastors and a nun rode with me to a theatre a few counties over to watch it and participate in an interview. (A representative from the local Jewish congregation participated in the interview as well, but he wanted to drive himself.) I did the same thing with a few kids when Jonah: A Veggie Tales Movie came out.