The GOLF

I was so disappointed with myself, I was crying over a stupid car.

This week I talked to a guy in our ward about helping us fix the fender on our car, the golf. (On T'Jae's last visit he pulled out of the drive way and hit it while it was parked across the street. I was wondering when and who that would happen to.)  The guy said it would be no problem, he could actually come by later and pull out the fender. That was good news.

The car had been sitting there since Braden left on his mission and we have been thinking of getting rid of it, somehow. An obvious question to ask a mechanic is if he knew anyone that would be interested in buying an old car, and he said sure, he would buy it for his brother. That was almost too easy.

As I pondered why I was getting so choked up about a car, I realized that I have had it more than half my life! Crazy thought!

The year was 1986, I was married to my first husband and we had just moved down to Huntington Beach, California. We needed another car so we could both get to work. We bought it right off the lot for sticker price, since we didn't know better. We didn't last long in California, and ended up back in Idaho.

A couple years later T'Jae was born and what followed wasn't the best year of my life. We moved to Oregon for a couple months, I never unpacked... I actually grabbed my things, T'Jae and the bare necessities and off we went in the Golf. Within a year I was divorced.

In 1990 I was married again. The Golf towed a trailer down to California where Gregg Bjorn was going to attend school. We made Southern California our home for a couple years. The most exciting years ever... the O.J. Simpson chase, the Rodney King riots and the Northridge earth quake. Plus, a lot of other good and memorable times.

In 1992 the odometer quite working with 154,000 miles on it. That same year we brought home our baby Braden from the hospital. I remember that day clearly, probably because when I got out of the car our neighbor said, "Did you have your baby? It doesn't look like it." I even recall what I was wearing and the beautiful day it was. Perfect California weather.

We moved back up to Idaho the day Gregg Bjorn graduated.

Jump ahead a few years, the Golf became the "kid" car. T'Jae drove it to school and to work at Big J's. Gregg Bjorn drove it off and on, but no one likes to share a car with him because he destroys cars from the inside out with sunflower seeds, baseball equipment and fast food... anything else you can imagine. It's just, gross.

Eventually, T'Jae cleaned it out real good and off he went to college.  He hauled friends around in it, went bridge jumping, to the sand dunes... anything a young man looking for adventure could do. He drove the Golf until he went on his mission.

Then along came driver number two, Braden. Braden added stickers and a stereo system. You could hear him coming a mile away, literally. The bass would "BOOM, BOOM" and I reminded myself of my own grandpa when he would complain about "the music today, is just noise." Inside I wanted to say that, because I couldn't understand the coolness of having such LOUD BASS. Braden drove it during his first year of college.

In March the Golf sat alone, another driver had abandoned it for a mission. I've been looking out the window, seeing the Golf everyday, thinking of my boy who is now far away doing great things. I even went out and sat in the car a couple times, found $20 in the cubbie. Yay! Talked on the phone, even cried once, sitting in the Golf.

The Golf was old, not even in the Blue Book and we didn't know how we were going to get rid of it. When this guy from our ward said he would buy it, it was a miracle. Not a real miracle, but it was a very, very good thing. Who knows how many miles are actually on it? It still has giddy-up like no other car we've owned.

But with only 2 drivers left at home and 4 cars... it's days were numbered.

I just didn't expect to cry when I saw them drive away. But, look at the memories! Some of the memories aren't even mine, they belong to my kids. Oh, the stories that car could tell, 26 years worth!!!

Take care of him Mr. Garcia... yes, it's a boy. Duh, all I have are boys. :)