I Said Goodbye To My Car

I said goodbye to my car yesterday.

I drove it off the lot brand new in 2001 as a gift from my family for graduating high school and going to college, and I drove it until the engine blew a couple of days ago and it couldn’t go anymore.

Yeah - it was bright yellow because I've always loved bright colors and I remember when I saw it I was reminded of the sun and the bright future that was ahead of me.

It’s weird, isn't it, how many memories can revolve around a car that’s been with you for so long (for almost 24 years!)?

My mom taught me to parallel park in it (I still hate doing that).

I drove my grandma around in it.

I wept in it after she passed away.

I drove it to college and seminary.

I drove my youth group kids around in it when I was a youth pastor.

I drove it to my job at 4 different Apple stores over the course of 11 years.

To my job at Starbucks before that.

To my job at Barnes and Noble before that.

To my job at a small cafe before that.

It kept me safe in a nasty accident.

I drove Dana around in it before we even started dating.

It drove us to the airport for our honeymoon.

I rode it out of the parking lot of the church I used to pastor and into a different season of life.

We drove Jordan home from the hospital in it.

We drove through many NJ blizzards together.

It made the trip with us from NJ to NC when we moved in 2017.

It took me to the hospital the night my dad passed away.

It carried me as I sobbed the whole way home.

I rode it to Yankee Stadium for many memorable games.

It contains the echos of my cheers while listening to John Sterling call Yankee games on the radio.

Tears during difficult moments of life.

Yelling at people who are terrible drivers (it’s a Jersey thing).

It’s heard me voice my fears and dreams and worries and hopes.

It's played every single Green Day song through it's speakers.

And it’s literally been with me as I’ve grown up from a teenager to an adult, a husband, a father.

… So many things. Next week it’ll be picked up from the mechanic by a scrap yard where it’ll be stripped down, the parts will be sold, and the remaining stuff will be melted down or ground to bits.

Sigh.

I struggle with things ending, I always have. When things end (summer, vacations, holidays, school years, etc) I tend to go into quiet spaces for a while to reflect and grieve in my own way. Some people understand, others don’t and think it’s wierd. That used to bother me and make me feel awkard and crazy, but at 42 I don’t really care anymore - it’s a part of me I embrace and welcome and try to understand and so that’s where I’ll be for a while.

Goodbye, old friend - thanks for the memories.

💔☀️

Glenn || SUPPORT / ART STUDIO