I woke up with a pit in my stomach this morning. Only two months left to get everything in order for this big trip. Keith left today and will be driving our new rig back from Florida with our dear friend Craig. Why am I not excited? I mean, I have spent the past few days giddy buying new plasticware, hiking gear and whatnots for the trip.
Yesterday I said farewell to my everyday companion for the past 12 years. My trusty black Chevy Suburban. We had to trade it in to get a new towable car, I guess the term is a dinghy. I haven’t even seen the new guy yet. He’s still at the dealer being detailed. I’m told it’s a Buick something or other. Our new (to us) dear dinghy. Good luck holding up to our beloved Suburban of days gone by. You have a tough act to follow Mr. Buick.
Our Suburban had definitely seen it’s days. Food was smashed into every crevice of the thing and remnants of melted crayon could be seen all over too. Scratches and dents marked the entire outside. The tan leather seats were turning grey and the smell was getting harder to mask with Bounty sheets under the seats. I even got so tired of having to drive it during the school days, that I bought myself my own little fiat as an escape.
That SUV was a part of the family though. Too reliable to discard. It took every beating we gave it and kept coming back for more. That suburban housed 4 carseats for years. Not to mention the many strollers to hockey bags. But, it’s gone. And I know he had to go in the name of new adventure, but I’m missing him today.
Thanks for the memories. You were swell ‘ol Black Suburban of mine. You will be missed but not forgotten. I will probably need a new version of you when we get back to the mundane. The hockey bags will be calling for you again….