Memories Move on Down the Road

Said goodbye to my car of 18. Imagine. 18 years.

She was an Oldsmobile Alero. Got her in 1999 from Conklin Cars. I put all but nine of the Alero’s 142,301 miles on her. Bought her from a guy named Jason, and before the deal was made, he got mad and threw the folder of papers at me. See, my dad was wheeling and dealing with him over the phone. Dickering him down in the price. He loves to do that, and he ticked the salesman off. Regarding car buying, Dad always said, “Gotta push ’em far enough until they say they have to talk to the manager.”

The Alero was an upgrade from my first car. Electric windows, a sun roof, and not just a cassette player, a CD one too. But right away, she had a few problems. The fuse box kept burning out certain fuses. I drove a few loaner cars from Conklin before they finally connected rain, the sunroof, and the fuse box to the problem. It was leaking from the roof. I wrote about her problems here in "Alero, the Sweet Lemon" back in 2014.

Within two years, I got hit on the way to school. A distracted teen made a right hand turn and hit the driver's side back door. All the students outside the middle school that morning saw the accident happen. When I called my insurance guy, the first thing he asked was if I was okay. And I was. To see a picture of the damage click here.

The Alero was never the same after that. The new back door just didn’t seal right, and the paint job didn’t match very well. Thus began my life of driving the rat trap, or what I more affectionately called her, my tin can.

Another accident occurred when I rear-ended a little red pick-up. That was a costly fix. Wanna know what distracted me? Split ends and man problems. That’s all I’m gonna say.

Despite these two fender benders, the Alero kept me safe on strange roads a few summers back, but it was after that trip, that I became a kept woman and needed to be driven anywhere new. I’m serious. I am a real-life Miss Daisy, only my driver isn’t Morgan Freeman, it’s Chris Harris, my husband. That trip really did me in. Read about it here.

I’ll blame my anxiety on Garmin too, the GPS system that my husband idolized when it first came out. One time, that stupid thing took me 30 miles east of McPherson instead of to Inman to Cousin Kris’ house.

The most embarrassing thing with the car though was an incident at Elaine Gerber’s, my hair dresser. Read about that here. The poor car still has the scars.

After nearly two decades, the Alero doesn’t look too whoopy anymore up close, but she’s been well taken care of. Last year, Chris bought her new headlights. My best friend's husband, Joe Shellmanner, makes sure the air conditioning works. She’s had only Goodyear Eagle Brand tires; my dad insisted on those expensive things. She's had a few sets. 

Some say never buy new, and if you do, trade it in a few years. That wasn’t us, the Alero and me. We remained together from 1999 to 2017. I’d planned to drive her for at least 20 years, just to say I did it. But my sister Brenda and her husband gifted me with a car, so I’m paying it forward and gifting the Alero to a co-worker of my husband’s. It feels good to know someone will appreciate her, but I’m glad I won’t see her around. 

She was my car.
My gal.
She knows all my secrets.

And today, after 18 years of memories, she drove off with a new owner.

Pending Aria's Arrival

A few days from now, you will be here. Among us.

With Jack. Your big brother.
He'll be your playmate. Your teacher. Your defender. Your bulwark.

He's been talking to you at your momma's belly. Have you heard him?
He's prepared for you. Been whispering your name then slipping out a smile.
He's become independent so mommy and daddy can tend to you.
He's potty trained. Eats an ice cream cone. And sleeps in a big boy bed.
He loves going to the library, the park, and Grandma's house.
He enjoys the yard, the butterflies, and the fishies in Grandpa's pond.

There isn't a person he meets that he doesn't want to know.
But knowing you will change his life forever.
Your presence will give him a playmate, a sister, and a friend.

Knowing Jack for over two years now has bettered my life.
And you, Aria, will do the same in your own way.

We're already off to a good start because
We have something in common.

Our musical names.


Writer's Note: Want to read my thoughts before Jack was born? Click here where I reminisce when he turned one.