I will be going home to clean out my car. I will be removing the parking stickers, the base tags, the German license plate. I will be removing all the trinkets that made it an extension of my personality – my graduation tassels; Chuck the Duck, who used to be strapped into the backseat; a neon colored frog given to me at a carnival; a small alien playing an accordion which I left on a small shelf so that his arching flights across the cabin would tell me if I was taking turns too severely.
I’m deconstructing about ten years of driving sundry that was consolidated from one car to another. A beaded necklace hanging with my tassels, with vibrantly painted wood starkly faded from the sun, was something I put in my first car when I was 15. I will tonight hopefully sell the last car that my Dad was able to fix for me.
The car had run its limit with me as I had no inclination to fix a car that didn’t have the amenities that I might like to enjoy in a car. That said, I will be going all scooter, all the time now. Actually, that’s how I have been for quite a few months, with spiders creating webs around the tires of the car. The car has remained just a place to have a secure place to park the scooter.
I feel less sad about this car than the first one I sold a few months back. I had something of a mental death grip on the first car. It had been the first car I had ever sold on my own, but I felt different after his friend translated why the buyer, a worn middle-aged gentlemen migrant worker, wanted a car – he was tired of walking to work at a local motel in the cold. I let go.
Sometimes…I thought, you have to let go in order for the Universe to do the rest of its job. I want It to do that for me now as well.