I put her on an 18-wheeler headed for California today. I always thought we’d end-up out there together, driving on the beach roads of San Diego, taking in the glorious sunsets and shimmering Pacific. I had envisioned the two of us parking in the skinny lot, barely wide enough for cars, at Windansea, where we could watch the expert surfers catching the last waves of the day on a south swell.
We’ve been through so much together. The worst times of my life were shared with her. Her wheels and sturdy suspension carried Leroy and me back and forth from Hopkins one appointment after another, for years. When he was feeling nauseated, she smoothed out the road. When I had to leave him behind in the hospital, it almost felt as if she was the one guiding me home safely. My tears are on her steering wheel.
The creases in those leather seats represent memories…some before cancer world, when Leroy drove his shinny new Jeep Grand Cherokee and loved every mile that circled her odometer. I was the passenger in those days, just happy to ride shot-gun.
We became inseparable when cancer entered our world. I don’t know what I would have done without her. She was a rock. Not a flat tire, not an oil leak; just the steady hum of her engine when she found her groove on the 95.
She’ll roll on the 405 now, under the watchful eyes of my nephew, who has been told to treat her with a lot of TLC.
The Pacific breezes will cool her engine now….it’s fitting really, considering how much Leroy (and I) loved that part of the country.
She’s earned her time in the sun.
July 18, 2012 @ 11:06 am
A very sweet post in homage to your trusty steed, the Jeep Grand Cherokee. I bet she’ll enjoy the coast very much.
July 18, 2012 @ 10:26 am
A friend bought an old car shortly after his Mother died to replace his junker. Well the new (old) car’s passenger side electric window stopped working. So he just endured this for a year or so. His Dad became sick from cancer. His Dad was an engineer and could fix most anything but never got around to fixing the electric window before he passed away last week. The day after his funeral, the electric window on the passenger side started working and hasn’t stopped. Maybe his Dad, now his guardian angel and engineer, did get around to fixing the window. I choose to think so.
July 18, 2012 @ 5:48 am
Some people would say it’s only a vehicle…not true. Every square inch of it has a memory of good times and some not so good. I’m sure she will love her new home near the ocean breezes. I’ve begun to think about selling Jim’s beloved motorcycle but I don’t know if I could actually watch it being taken away. We’ll see.
July 17, 2012 @ 8:28 pm
This brings me back to the feeling of that last ride with Patrick in his restored T-bird, the top down, showing off in downtown Venice, Florida. We took the car out for its final spin the night of his funeral. It stopped running after that.