The Demise of Gus

"Well it's going to be a total loss."Total loss? My little grey car didn't like a total loss. Sure he was definitely limping, but he looked reparable."Yes, all you have to do is sign the papers. You have to let us know if you want to keep it for scrap value."

I walked back over to my car who had been hit as I tried to parallel park. He was my first car. The pink slip was in my name and I knew how he worked and grumbled and got me where I needed to go. When I got him, the owner, a woman in her late twenties, had fondly handed me the keys telling me, "I had a wonderful time in this car. I hope the same for you." He had been her first car as well, and I felt like she was bestowing on me a harbinger of good times. Ironically, the first few weeks after Gus's arrival (I christened him Gus, because of his large tail end... think Cinderella) ended up being some of the most difficult in my life. And yet retrospectively, difficult is not necessarily different than good. Sometimes it is the circumstances that are difficult that provide the most good. So perhaps her words were a foreshadowing of good times only the good was not what I expected. It was much better.

But regardless, Gus was there for it, my little dependable car, with airlocks that allowed me to locate him if I misplaced him in the parking lot. Push the button on my keys and he lights up. And furthermore, he got me back and forth between work and church with complete dependability and he knew the ninety-one freeway, the Biola parking lot and the In-n-out drive through as I am sure no other car can.Last Friday, I went and emptied him out. It was sad, but that is because I identify him with a time in my life, a good time, a hard time, a time that is time to say goodbye to.So Farewell.

-Leilani