I thought I would share this with all of you as it’s been a long time since I’ve posted on here. Tomorrow is the 18 month anniversary of the loss of my beloved mother and absolute best friend, Carol. One and a half years without my soulmate. One of the very few things of any value that she had left in her possession when she died was her car. I decided that there was no way I was going to part with that car, even if it meant paying a bit more with insurance and the initial title transfer fee (which the tag office cut in half when they realized the car was bequeathed to me). It was the first vehicle that Mom bought on her own, the first one she paid off on her own; it was hers and hers alone. Mom neglected it badly in her final year of life, so I have fixed it up, top to bottom, cleaning it, getting all the needed maintenance done, and taking care of it even more than my own car.
There’s also a sort of spiritual connection with it. Some months before she started getting sick, Mom was involved in a car accident. A woman driving a brand-new Toyota Tacoma pickup truck slammed into Mom’s car at a roundabout. The truck was badly damaged and had to be towed away, but Mom’s car had no damage. Nothing, not even a dent or scratch. The lady who caused the accident couldn’t believe it, but then she looked at the plate on the front of Mom’s car and said, “Yep, now I get it. Now I understand.” I used to pick on Mom for the tag, saying it was goofy, but methinks it’s going to stay on there. I don’t drive the car too much, so I expect to have it for a long time. Keeping the vehicle and taking care of it at all times is sort of a memorial for Mom; I do this in her memory.
