Ode to JEN17

I sold my car yesterday.  But to me, she was so much more than a car.  She was kind of a person, a part of my family.  A part of many people's lives, and her teal green body brought many people joy everywhere she went.  Yes, I am almost 25.  But there was no way I would ever change her license plate, because she is, in all of our hearts, JEN17. We refer to her fondly as Jen, and talk about her as if she is a person.  My Dad pulled out of the driveway as I was preparing to clean her up for a prospective buyer, and his parting words were, "Be brave."

I needed that.  I cried several times throughout the day - I had been preparing for 3 years for Jen to die, but the idea of giving her away was something I hadn't considered...I wasn't ready.  I had been planning her funeral - we would all wear teal and come with a story, our favorite memory of JEN17.  JEN17 had many adventures :)  But none of this came to pass - the buyer came, took a look, pulled out the cash, I handed over the keys, and she was gone.  As I watched her drive away, I was filled with tidbits of advice that I wanted to shout after the new owner - "She runs better when you talk to her!"  "We sing happy birthday every time she turns 1,000 miles!"

But I refrained.  She isn't my JEN17 anymore.  After all, she was only a car.  When I had cleaned my life out of her (I wish I would have counted how many bobbie pins I found, and squealed with elation when I pulled out window markers used in high school pranks), I realized how true this was - that she was only a car.  As much as I wished she would turn "Herbie the Love Bug" on me and throw a fit when somebody else tried to drive her, she didn't know that she had a new driver, and she surely didn't care that we didn't have a going away party for her.

However, she was MY car.  My JEN17.  And, as ridiculous as it sounds, she was more than a car to me.

Words of Wisdom: To avoid becoming emotionally attached to your car, refrain from naming her after yourself.