Sometimes it’s something very simple and yet out of the ordinary that I stumble into and suddenly feel some weird level of gratitude for.
Like my mother’s car.
I got to visit my mother’s car last week. My wife even got to ride around in it.
It’s a 2000 Honda CRV that my mom bought new. As my father’s own driving skills declined, it became their primary vehicle. Honestly, it was the perfect car for her; small, yet roomy inside, and reliable. I definitely have fond memories of my parents driving up to our house in it when they’d come over for dinner or some other visit.
My mother passed away in 2003, a little over 14 years ago. We took the car, and because it was small and one of a few vehicles that could be towed with all four wheels on the road, we had it modified to pull behind our RV. It served us well for several years in that capacity. We also loaned it to my cousin and her husband when they visited and went on a road trip of their own.
When we sold the RV we really had no further need for the CRV. It was convenient, of course, but ultimately not particularly practical for us to hang on to.
But it turned out that my wife’s sister could make use of it. So we sold it to her. And once again, it’s been fulfilling its role as small, roomy, and reliable transportation.
It’s odd, sometimes, to think about the emotional attachments we sometimes form to inanimate objects. Cars seem particularly prone to this. In this case I’m sure that it’s at least in part due to the association with my mother that I end up feeling this way.
I’m glad it’s in good shape and continuing to serve well. My mother would be very pleased.