My husband’s emotional attribute to his most loved car

Does anyone from among you had that much attachment to a car to even give an attribute to it in Facebook?

Well, some few weeks ago, as my husband was driving in town with my daughter, an unfortunate incident placed an unexpected end to my husband’s relationship with his special car!

And so here it goes ~

Tom Candela writes ….

So I’m not really one to anthropomorphize an object like a car (dogs, well that’s another story), but this little lady and I had a long special relationship. She was driven over 245,000 miles (nearly all of that myself) - basically, all the way to the moon with perhaps a circumnavigation or two. Her powerful front wheel drive got me through snowstorms and flooding; her excellent fuel economy allowed me nearly 400 miles without filling up; and many nights, when I made the 2-plus hour drive in the middle of the night after working a 13 hour shift, were occasions where I suddenly found myself in my driveway without recalling how I got there. So it is with great sadness (and a little…well, yes, let’s admit it…guilt) that I let her be taken away. The sad part is, she still ran well, great even. Although her consumption of petro grew with age, she still had plenty of umph! My goal had always been to get her to 250,000 miles, but most recently I decided that I would go for broke with her….perhaps, I could even make it BACK from the moon in mileage. Unfortunately, another force stepped in - that uneven-handed, master of misery, called fate. On March 30th while me and my two girls (the car and my daughter) were making our way home, pleasantly minding our own business, some 80 year-old lady (and the tank she was driving) took it upon themselves to pull out of a parking lot into traffic without pausing to look both ways. What happened next…well, you get the picture. Anyway, the lady was very nice, took full responsibility, and duly promised to “take care of it.” Her accountant called me few days later and informed me that while she didn’t have the cash to fix the car, her insurance company did. Fast forward a couple of weeks and I’m sitting in a repair shop down in Greenly, PA awaiting the fate of my little lady. After inspecting the ole girl and taking many pictures, the repair guy (Reuben) came out and literally made finger across the throat motion. “Yes?”, queried, “What does that mean?” “Totaled…sorry,” was his unfortunate reply. While the car was certainly drivable (after all, I had driven it to the repair shop), the cost to fix her, coupled with the wear and tear from nearly 13 years on the PA roads, had rendered my gal unworthy of repair! But wait! You don’t understand! She and I have a history! She’s gotten me through thick and even thin! She….she….has to get me back from the moon!!! These were my thoughts…I didn’t mention them to Reuben of course, probably wouldn’t have been appreciated. And so, the insurance company made an offer I had little choice to refuse. Take a check in the amount THEY valued the car at, or go on my merry way and fix the car myself (to the tune of nearly 4,500.00). I thought long and hard about it. As I mentioned the car was drivable, albeit, there was that occasional scraping sound when the rear tire hit the caved-in fender. But still! However, given the amount of damage she had sustained, and the fact that she was due an inspection in September - an exam my maintenance guy had previously (BEFORE the accident) assured me she would fail for the first time in her life - the decision became obvious. I took the cash. Of course the caveat to the insurance company handing you a check for almost 5,000.00 (for the benefit of those of you who have had the good fortune NOT ago have to deal with car insurance companies) is, THEY get to take the car! And so on the sun-filled day pictured below, they came and hauled her away. My old gal still had enough dignity in her to refuse the winch, choosing instead to allow herself to be driven up the ramp…by a stranger, no less! “What will they due with her?”, I asked the mutton-chopped (I kid you not, people still do that) driver. “Oh, probably put it (IT?!!) up for auction or sell it (AGAIN!) for parts “ Ouch. And as he drove her up the driveway and away…. I felt sad…and yes, guilty. And I couldn’t help wondering, who’s gonna get me back from the moon? P.S. I choose not to show the damage from the accident…after all, she still has her dignity.