I don’t normally become attached to “things.”
Things are disposable. They’re replaceable. They don’t hold your memories; your heart, your head and your blog preserve those special moments.
For a long time then, “things” were easy to toss out.
My American and I have had long discussions about the Great Escape this year. We both knew the time was coming when the wee truck would become more expensive to maintain than she was worth.
New struts and shocks, new tires, new brakes … the cash register was dinging away on us the last couple of years. New coilers and plugs even.
OK, OK … that last set of repairs was kind of my fault. Or all of my fault. We came up on this puddle on the back roads near Harrington, WA, last fall you see, and it was a lot deeper than it looked.
That was the turning point. We took another car for a test drive and the saving began.
As 2017 passed by, life started to consume my time and, much to my chagrin escapes have been rare. The wee truck became a commuter vehicle and her creaks and groans became louder in my head.
We made the decision.
Twice we started to drive her to the dealership and twice I bailed.
The memories started flooding in.
How I’d bought this truck so Shep and I could go more, do more, see more. A big white dog changed my life and we went places I never thought I’d see.
The Great Escape took us on countless hiking trips to the majestic Rocky Mountains.
She took us home to the Atlantic Ocean where Shep and My American met my family.
She got dirty.
She was loved. And no matter what My American will tell you, she was taken care of. (Vacuuming and dusting don’t count as “taking care of.”)
She was the last real “thing” I had to hold of Shep, whose ashes rest in a special place in our home.
But I had to let go.
Last Tuesday, I drove the Great Escape up to her new owner, discovered by pure serendipity. Lexi, the young daughter of a friend, recently totaled her truck in an accident and needed a quick, but reliable fix.
My friend and I were out for lunch and I mentioned we were thinking about a new ride.
But what will you do with the Escape? Welllllllll …
Lexi holds the keys to the wee truck now.
And while the Great Escape holds so many memories, they don’t stay with the truck.
They stay with me.