I Guess This is Goodbye Soon

Dearest Golden Egg,

You have been my car for six gorgeous years.... can you believe it's been that long since I drove you off the lot, shellshocked at how badly I got 'had' buying you?

I remember your sticker price was 7995 and somehow I ended up paying something like 13000 after all the bells and whistles and warranties and alarms were added. I joked that it was my tuition in the school of life, Car Buying Edition.

Oh, I was so nervous and so new to the biggest, brightest city I'd ever seen... Los Angeles spread out before us in an endless paved paradise and we saw it all (literally, I think).

Through every turn and stoplight you were my companion, along with a bevy of musical guest stars that blasted through your surprisingly good stereo system.

I never once felt ashamed of your economy class, even when I waited in line between a Mercedes and a Bentley to valet park you for one of the many fun parties I found myself attending. 

You were my first car (sorry, Bessie!) and through the last half decade plus I have learned every tic and eccentricity you had, some that made me laugh and some that quite frankly frustrated me.

I hope whoever owns you next has a good sense of humor or they might worry when you do your chirping bit above 5 mph. Or when they try to pump gas and find they have to get it at  just

the right angle or it won't fill.... ah, Golden Egg.

 

I know you are an inanimate object, but just like teddy bears I've loved and chairs I cannot seem to part with I think you have a soul. 

That soul has kept me safe and dry through nearly 50,000 miles of road and adventure... through breakups and blind dates and engagements alike you have been a constant companion and I will never forget you.

Now it is time for someone else to have you as their first car, for someone else to discover all of the things about you that make me smile. Your golden years are nigh and I don't have the bravery to be stuck halfway between here and Spokane with an exhaust that has come off or a radiator that has overheated.

Most of the driving I plan on doing is long distance. I want to go to L.A. and not feel like I have to rent a car. I want to have the health of my vehicle be a no-brainer, something that I know is good for another 50,000 miles.

And so we must part, but let me send you off with this prayer:

May your hubcaps always match

May you drive the prettiest highways and byways

May you be filled with singing and may your driver always use their bluetooth headset (remember, it's the law!)

May your trunk always be full of surprisingly useful tidbits ("oh I know I put this somewhere!")

as it was when you were mine.

When the sun is setting and the miles are long may your driver pat your steering wheel the way I did and say, "Good Car" with the same warmth as me.

Godspeed, my sweet Echo!