A heavy boulder dropped on my heart as I read the diagnosis. My beloved Subaru Outback, who had so lovingly and loyally stayed by my side for 17.5 years, was on her deathbed. Her whole lifetime flashed before me: all of our adventures, our experiences, our dreams and our hopes. Through all of my heartaches and joys, ‘Ru had always been there for me, supporting me and keeping me safe.
Everything was a blur after that…the dealerships, transfers to my bank, emptying all of my memories out of her insides…. With tears streaming down my face, I pressed my forehead to the steering wheel, gave her a long, gentle kiss, then closed the front door for the last time.
Why was I so upset about letting go of an old car? After all, it was only a matter of time until she broke down, and it was definitely safer to stop driving before she did. It wasn’t worth $4,000 to fix her. And heck, almost 18 years is a good, long run for a car.
As my cleaning lady said so bluntly, “’Ru was more than just a car.” Our cars are a reflection of ourselves: how we see ourselves and carry ourselves in the world. Even the color has significance. Many of us are in our cars every day; in some cases, we spend just as much or more time with them than we do with our human loved ones.
Also, if you’re like me, letting go of what you love is hard, whether it’s a person, car, place, or pet. Maybe I don’t like change; maybe I’m afraid I’ll never find love like that again. Whenever I lose something or someone beloved, I never feel ready, even when I see it coming.
Yet time marches on, and so does life. In the words of Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, “The only constant is change.” In the best case scenario, we change for the better. I just purchased a shiny, new Outback with all the latest bells and whistles. If my car is indeed a reflection of myself, I am hoping that my life, too, will soon experience a major upgrade.
My new car has a completely different energy than the old one. ‘Ru was forest green, often dirty, blended into the background, and was always up for a spontaneous ride. Twinkle, meanwhile, (“Twink” for short) is sparkling white on the inside and out and feels more like a shining, pure light queen. Yet she’s still an Outback, with that same sense of playfulness, humor, and adventure. With this car transition, I feel like I’m letting go of what was literally breaking down and no longer serving me in my old life and bringing forward into my future those things that do.
I had a dream this morning just before trading ‘Ru in that I was Wendy in Peter Pan – saying goodbye to Peter with a wistful, yet knowing, hug – realizing that I couldn’t stay in Neverland forever because I had a richer, fuller life ahead. Wendy never lost her sense of play and always kept the nursery window open for Peter. Yet she went on to become an intelligent, beautiful woman and a strong, loving mother, eventually hugging her own child goodbye who flew off to adventure with Peter.
RIP, dearest ‘Ru.
Twink, let’s go find an even better Neverland.
© 2015 by Laurie Gardner
Congratulations, Laurie.
I went through this a year and a half ago – bought a new white Forester and released my beautiful, old blue one. And yes, like you, my life has revealed a major upgrade that was heralded by the upgrade in car. Please keep us filled in. Hugs, Sue
I love it! Thanks for sharing that. I’m looking forward to my life upgrades soon too! : )
– L
Life is about living and loving. The mistake most of us make is thinking that it is limited to our human counter parts. Because of this an entire dimension of the true experience of life can be missed. The love that you think you are deprived of sharing because a certain someone is not there. Laurie hit it! Love your car, your house, your desk and whatever. Because in some way the support you are looking for can be found in what you don’t see in front of you. It’s called appreciation. Michael Dresser, Host of the Michael show.
So true, Michael. Most of all, we must direct that love toward ourselves!
– L
Great obit for Ru. Best wishes and luck in your aspirations with Twink!
Thanks, Dad! And thanks for all of your help with this transition…can’t wait for you to meet Twinkle!
xo
Dear Laurie,
That is so dear. Mike’s truck is called Udi. Yes, they do have a life !
Thank you to everything —– to the old pot that broke.
The Law of Constant Change.
Cheers!
…c
Indeed. Another wonderful proverb I like about change (Buddhist):
“Fortune can change with the swish of a donkey’s tail.”
I had a boss who said, “Change is inevitable, unless you’re standing in front of a vending machine.” Funny, but change is inevitable and is actually a grieving process we go through when we have big life changes. And when we can process them like you did, Laurie, it’s always better on the other side. Stay in touch and let me know about you and Twinkle’s new adventures.
That is funny! : )
I really appreciate your comments about the importance of grieving. It’s interesting how even when a change feels like it’s for the better, we still mourn the loss of the old.