In Loving Memory

Today is a sad day my friends. I never thought I'd feel as sad or remorseful as I do about my loss. I had know it was coming for over a year, but I hadn't planned for the day when it would arrive-that phone call that would give me the terrible news and for that I am heart broken.
At first I accepted it, rolled it off as something that was inevitable, but today, as I get ready to attend the funeral I can't stop the memories from flooding my head. We'd spent so many nights driving around when I lived Upstate. We'd crank the radio as high it could go, roll the windows down, or turn the heat on depending on the season, sing at the top of our lungs and clear our head-not returning home until the gas tank was low. College was a struggle. Should I write or teach writing? Should I move back to NYC and pursue what I wanted or get a degree? Would T.S. Elliot really help me through life? Whatever my doubt was my friend held my hand and got me to class everyday until I eventually graduated. Then there was my wedding. She went with me to all the halls, church appointments, florist appointments, dress fittings and of course my bachelorette party back in NYC. She waited for me when I came back from my honeymoon, delighted in the excitement that moving to Long Island brought, got my husband through the first two years of his job in Garden City and last year got me through the daily trips to the doctor during my pregnancy.
Sadly, nine months have passed since I really had time alone with her. I can't think of the last time I rode around, cranked the music and let the wind blow through my hair. We used to be two peas in a pod and suddenly she was brushed aside, left waiting for me to beckon her, need her or want her-and I didn't. She was no longer an asset in my life. And to be honest, my husband had found someone else. Someone who got us home from the hospital with our brand new son, helped us through doctors appointments and brought us closer to our family. I know she watched me from the sidelines, hoping I'd see her sadness and need to be with me, but I was oblivious. And now, as I walk over to Friendly's Automotive Car Service to get the belongings I left behind with her, I can't help but wonder what's going to happen to her? Does she go to heaven? Will her parts be put to good use? Or will she rot into the ground blaming me for leaving her?
I loved my green Daewoo more than anyone else. I stood by her side and came to her rescue when others mocked or ridiculed her. And I hope, for the sake of the new driver, or parts holder, that they will be as good to her and give her the love and attention I've failed to give over the last year. And, if she's to far gone to be assisted, I ask that she be given a proper burial among the other junkyard cars who've also been pushed aside and forgotten.
My heart and memory will always be with her. So today I dedicate a day of morning for my Daewoo. She was a beautiful car, who may not have had a company backing, a name anyone heard of or a transmission that slide into gear without the help of my sunglasses wedged in between, but she was fun, vibrant and caused honks from other random Daewoo drives along the road. She will be miss greatly and will never be forgotten. RIP Daewoo.