Ode to My Old Car

Today I said goodbye to my 2004 station wagon, which carried me through two jobs, three apartments, one wedding and roughly two hundred thousand miles.

It had a dent shaped like Florida on the rear bumper. The radio only got one station, a country channel I came to love against my will. The heater worked on high or not at all. There was a permanent Cheerio wedged in the passenger seat that we never managed to remove.

I learned to drive stick in that car with my dad. I drove my newborn daughter home from the hospital in it at fifteen miles per hour with the hazards on. I sang along to Dolly Parton in it on more road trips than I can count.

The young guy who bought it is going to use it to start a dog-walking business. I told him about the Cheerio. He said he'd keep it. I liked him right away.