One more dead battery to deal with was too much. It’s time to donate the old Volvo V70 all drive XC to KQED. But as soon as I arranged a pick up I broke down and cried. That wagon drove me and my kids back and forth to GrandMarie’s, down to Carpinteria, and all over the place from the day we bought it in July 2000 until now. As planned, 2/3 of my kids learned to drive in it. It’s like putting down a family pet.
That wagon represented so much to me: a real moment of for once, feeling ‘affluent’ like there really was enough money in the family, things were good and getting better (now I’m not so sure). Feeling safe for once, no more fear of falling backward down a slope like I did in the old manual mercedes. Feeling like I could drive my kids over the Grapevine in icy conditions without hesitation and with plenty of acceleration to get out of the way of semi-trucks.
It also, like any great high moment, had it’s dark foreboding. I felt like the only reason Mike bought it for me, was because Amanda insisted. As business partners, she wanted a new car, so Matt agreed but that meant I got one too. That theme of feeling like Mike listened to everyone but me was repeated until we separated in 2005.
But it was fun…for a minute there was enough room for all of us and our boogie boards…my kids were young and game and we went every where together. We had a swell time freezing and sweltering in it. It’s the end of that era.
Yeah, and I’m crying again.