On Letting Go

I've never been one of those people that was obsessed with my car, or at least obsessed enough to name it or deck it out in Hello Kitty seat covers.  Living in a city where I walk/ride a bus/take a taxi everywhere is a gift, and I feel incredibly lucky that my car usage has significantly decreased since moving to the San Francisco.  The thing is, the car has been in a spot the last two months where I could grab it if necessary.  Spontaneous trips, errands to Target or giving a friend a ride to the airport was still an option.  Like a distant security blanket, I liked knowing it was there just in case.

This weekend, my sister will be taking my car to borrow it for the summer.  She lives and works in a city where having a car makes a lot more sense, and I feel lucky enough that I can offer her the same sense of independence that my parents gave me when they gifted me with the car 3 and a half years ago.  I think I'll miss the car a little bit knowing those what if scenarios are going to have to proceed sans car, but am grateful that really not having a car will make me feel even more at home in SF.

If anything, I might tear up a little bit thinking about all the memories my little car holds.  I don't want the magic of these memories to disappear as Maggie fills it with her own memories.  I remember the first time I drove it to LA, praying all the way over the Grapevine that I'd be able to make it all the way to school without incident.  I loved driving throughout Southern California to attend babygirl's softball tournaments.  I was excited to finally have the opportunity to drive my friends around, and give rides to younger sorority sisters.  I loved how it felt to drive through the craziness of Hollywood, navigating to my latest (often hilarious) assignment from a celebrity magazine internship.  Los Angeles parking garages were the perfect place to roll down my windows and blast country music.  This was the car that dropped off a friend of mine at the airport, knowing I'd probably never see him again; and then it safely got me all the way to my aunt's house as I navigated some strange and bittersweet feelings.  When I lived with my bestie Nicoley in a fraternity house, we managed to shove mattresses in my car, and that still makes me laugh.  This car has seen a lot in such a short amount of time.

Funny how a hunk of metal that I thought I wasn't too attached to can hold so much value.  Here's to more adventures in public transit, stories from my sister about the car, and letting go of that sense of security I've been clinging to a little too tightly.

Summer 2010.  Bet you didn't know a Corolla could fit a mattress!

Do you love your car? Have any funny names for it? Do share!