Saturday, January 23, 2010

Goodbye, Dear Friend

Memories are funny. Often stimulated by sight or smell. Often stimulated by location or time.
I lost a lot of memories yesterday.
We sold our Suburban.
That shouldn't be an emotional decision, right? I'm not a real car aficionado, so it's not like it was tricked out by anyone's standard. I'm far from fanatical when it comes to its cleanliness or appearance. The sticker on the back window didn't include Eve, or Hyrum, for that matter. I'm not car-less, so I can drive the replacement (kinda tricked out but not new) Suburban wherever I need to go.
I've driven that car for almost eight years, and as the time drew closer to let it go, I got a little nostalgic:

I remember driving to Idaho for the transaction: Dad was selling cars and he'd picked this one out for us: 2002 white LS with four-wheel drive (its only real upgrade).
I remember taking it to Mexico a few weeks later: it was initiated to life in the Denton family with a spray of grape Shasta soda when I accidentally opened the tailgate without properly investigating the shift in cargo.
I remember riding in it to the hospital for four children's deliveries: and bringing home three.
I remember all the road trips: kids and crap packed to capacity and still room for lots of snacks.
I remember cleaning it: two neighbor kids, on two separate occasions, puking all down the passenger door and out the window.
I remember random calls from CPS: driving to Phoenix with Brad's sister Nancy to bring Baby A (and others) home.
I remember the minor accident: it was hit by an errant illegal delivery man coming out of Sam's Club, and I was the one who couldn't drive home because my license had been mysteriously suspended (another story, not as bad as it sounds).

Eight years is longer than I've lived in any house as an adult.
Eight years is longer than half of my kids have been alive.
Eight years is longer than Obama will be president (let me dream!).

I knew every inch of that car--
where the rip in the passenger seatbelt was
where my cell phone fit
where the dramamine and mentholatum cubby was in the glove compartment
where the spot was to set the A/C and the vents for perfect climate control
where each radio station was on the presets
where my lotion and hand sanitizer fit best
where the seat and mirrors belonged after someone else drove
where and when to crank the wheel to squeeze it into the single garage space
where the gas gauge stopped to indicate that it really was empty

I never had a problem with that car--nearly 148,000 miles--and all it ever needed was minor body repair (accident and teenagers) and a new wiper fluid pump. I drove it, the lone driver with many kids, to and from Idaho many times. I filled it with garage sale finds, auction treasures, DI donations, and Costco runs. And NEVER did it let me down.

I should write a commercial for Chevy.
And get a new sticker.



  1. You sold the suburban? That is sad. To tell you the truth, I have a few memories of my own with that car. That's the car a bunch of 12 year old girls rode in when we went to do baptisms for Heidi's birthday. One of the best games of corners I've ever played... Brooke Lebaron was riding in a laundry basket in the back and it fell over. Pretty funny. You get to keep your specialized license plate, right? :)

  2. I've always felt a little tug when I get rid of my cars, too. After all, we have a history together, right? And so many memories that include my family, great trips, and all the ins and outs of everyday life.

    Fortunately, my sorrow passes quickly...sort of like getting released from Young Women's. I die for about a month, and then I'm happy to be back in Relief Society again.


  3. It looks just like my white suburban. It's a 2003. And while I love it, I want to get a zippy smaller car for when it's just me driving or only taking a few kids. It's sad to get rid of a car. It's almost like a member of the family.

  4. I can't even imagine having a car that long. My husband's in the car business and I am lucky if I keep a car 1 year. Hope you are able to have good memories in the new vehicle and it is there for you just as much!

  5. It's funny how sometimes you don't realize how much you love something until it's gone. Hope your new ride treats you as well as your old friend!

  6. Awwww, parting is such sweet sorrow! But, I'm so happy for you and your new car to create memories in.