A girl and her car

We gave away my car last week. It was a bittersweet moment. It has been sitting in our garage for the last 3+ years, gathering dust, hiding Christmas presents, rescuing me when the battery in the van dies and I need to get to pre-school. And now the garage is empty. It seems a little strange. There are so many memories attached to that car and to let it go makes me a little sad, the end of an era. An entire decade of my life, passed through those doors...

This was the car Emily and I drove to BYU, towing all of our life's belongings behind us in a little U-Haul trailer. This was the car that was booted in every apartment complex I lived in. The car that Alison and I drove to the Wilk every week so we would not be late for our bowling class. The car that got parking tickets at the Wilk almost weekly. This was the car that we took 4 wheeling in Provo Canyon. The car we took to the Nutty Putty caves on my first splunking adventure. This was the car we drove to Salt Lake, singing Indigo Girls at the top of our lungs. This was the car we slept in outside of temple Square, waiting to go to conference the next morning. This was the car we locked the conference tickets in (with the keys) when we ran across the street to go the the bathroom. I cried. This was the car where I held hands with the first boy I ever loved. This was the car that Alison and Kim and I drove around Provo in our bras. We felt so naughty. This was the car that I drove home every summer. The car that sat in my driveway for the 18 months I was in New York. This was the car I drove back to BYU after I got home. This was the car I drove to the MTC every day, where I was informed my shoes were not conservative enough for an MTC teacher. I found that strangely satisfying. This was the car I learned to drive with one leg. The car I drove to physical therapy for months with a handicap sign hanging from the rear view mirror. This drastically reduced the number of parking tickets I received. This was the car that Alison and Jared and I drove to California. This was the car we drove to Sundance every Fall to see Peter Breinholt. This was the car where I held hands with the last boy I would love. The car Jeff and I made out in, in the back of the Burger King parking lot. This was the car we fought in. The car where I cried after we fought. This was the car we drove to pick out my wedding ring. This was the car I drove with my hands at the top of the steering wheel so I could stare at that ring. The car we drove to Centerville every time we went to the airport so we wouldn't have to pay to park. Aunt Lynn was so nice. This was the car that hauled all of our stuff to a storage unit after fall semester. The car that hauled it all to our new apartment the week after we were married. This was the car I drove to the DMV to get a new license with a new name on it. I felt so grown up. And so in love. This was the car we drove to Magleby's Fresh when I was craving bread sticks and Terriyaki Stix when Jeff was craving a chicken bowl. This was the car we drove to Salt Lake to walk the Olympic Square, hoping it would put me into labor. It didn't. This was the car we drove home from the hospital after Jeffrey was born. He cried the whole way. We were terrified. This was the car we parked at the copy center when we went to football games. This was the car that held a stroller and a Baby Bjorn in the trunk everywhere we went. This was the car we drove to Holladay when we found our new apartment. The car we parked in the first space, next to our neighbor who drove a mustang and worked at a strip club. We weren't in Provo anymore. This was the car we drove to the U to pick Jeff up from school. This was the car we drove to the barber shop where Jeffrey fell asleep and fell off the chair. This was the car I drove to the hospital for my OB appointments when I was pregnant with Owen. This was the car I drove to South Jordan while our house was being built. The car we parked on a dirt road, staring at the wood and nails that were slowly becoming our home. The car where I took my favorite picture of Owen, smiling up at me from his car seat as we watched the wood and nails come together. This was the car where Jeffrey and I sang along to the Wiggles and practiced counting. This was the car where we ate happy meals and stored french fries. This was the car we drove to Cottonwood Mall with a double stroller in the trunk. Jeffrey begged for quarters to ride on the horsey and the girls at the Gap greeted me like an old friend. This was the car we missed when Jeff got an internship at GE. The car we appreciated even more when Jeff got a car of his own. This was the car we drove to Midway with Dave and Jill. This was the car we drove away from Cottonwood Creek for the last time. The car we parked in our very own garage. For the last time.

This was the car that smelled like vanillaroma. The car that reminded me of my college friends, of BYU and grad school at the U and our boys when they were babies. So many memories. All attached to this car in some way. The car that was so me for so many years.

So long, it's been a good ride.