Goodbye Old Truck

I asked for a minute alone before I handed over my key. To say thank you. And goodbye. I stood there with my old SUV; glass missing, broken parts on the ground and all. It drove us for nine years. Everywhere. It took us from one car-seat to figuring out how to fit three of them. I could tell the story of every stain, dent, and scratch. Brody's dog-hairs were were still on the ceiling. My secret compartment held emergency running shoes, chapstick and a yogurt spoon. I could reach down the side of the seats to find old snacks that fell through the cracks when anyone was hungry. I wasn't necessarily ready to say goodbye. Yet.

But this past week, I learned that the biggest value of an old vehicle comes from the memories you make in it. And it only took a hard hit from behind on a rainy morning to consider it a total loss. I know- the most important part about any accident is that you are able to walk away from it. I am grateful for that above all. But along those lines, that old SUV kept us safe, warm and happy for a long time, right up until I said goodbye. So I gave it a hug, grabbed my running shoes and onward I ran.