A Delayed Love Letter

So, as many of you know I sold my car earlier this summer. The Pathfinder, P-Finder, or Grey Ghost, as my dad liked to refer to her. (He is such a cheese ball). WARNING: Ultimate display of cheesy sentimentalism over a material possession follows.

Anyway, this was a difficult decision for me. I LOVED that car - it was my first car that I got new - and we'd been together 10 years. And when my dad bought it for me, it was totally top of the line. He let me get all the bells & whistles & gadgets and it was just so much fun. In the later years, it would often get really junked out, but then I'd get it washed and condition the leather seats and marvel at how freaking awesome the car remained even ten years and 140,000 miles after our relationship began. In the end, I was worried that, with my long commute to and from Beaumont, the girl wouldn't last until I got to my new job at the law firm and could afford another new car. So, I bought my dad's Prius.

Anyway, the P-finder and I shared some great, and some not so great, but definitely defining, memories. I can't believe I drove that car off the lot when I was 20 years old! She was with me though college, my first few years as a working girl, law school, and - now - to Beaumont.  I drove her to graduations and job interviews. She carried me through my parents' divorce.  She saw my relationship begin - and end - with my first and so far, only, love. I brought both of my dogs home in that car. I lived in seven apartments during her life span.

Oh yeah, and our first weekend together, my college roomie forced me to drive one of her very drunk sorority sisters home from a party. And that lovely girl promptly vomited alllllll over my backseat. The next day was really rainy, so none of the car washes were open. That was fun.

The first couple weeks after I got the car, I was driving around my high school friend, Sara, and she was making a fuss over how awesome my car was. I'll never forget what she said, "Sarah, I mean, when you are driving this thing around do you just feel like a rapper?" And I really did. (I was sort of ghetto fabulous in high school. I still love me some Fat Pat, Biggie, Puff Daddy (as he was known then) and Lil' Troy.)

The lady I sold it to bought it for her son, a college kid here in Beaumont.  It is his first car. When he test drove it, he turned the stereo way up and pushed the seat way back. I think they were a good fit. I am really hoping he has as many defining moments and wonderful memories with the P-finder as I had.

And now every time I pass a silver pathfinder on the road, I look and see if it's mine.