Farewell to my faithful friend

Anyone who knows me well knows that change is not something I get overly excited about. I’m a creature of habit.

They also know that I have driven the same car for a very long time. Eighteen years to be exact. I drove the same 2008 Nissan Xterra from that summer until a few days ago. Sure, it’s just a car, but I’ve done a lot of thinking about the amount of life I have lived since owning that car and how much my life has changed. It has made me very reminiscent of the milestones that have happened.

It was time to move on and get something different. It was in a state that only someone who really loved it could appreciate it.

The driver’s side window would not go down most of the time, and if it did, good luck getting it back up. That was fun in the rain.

It was the same car that made a weird rattling noise when I turned on the air conditioner.

It was considered an off-road vehicle, so it did not even have mirrors that flipped down. Who needs mirrors if you’re off-roading? The thing is, I never took it off-roading.

The gas cap shield had this weird defect where it would always pop open even though the tank itself was fine. At least twice a week, a nice stranger would stop me at the light and try to tell me the gas cap was open, which I always appreciated, but you know, that window thing made it hard to graciously get that window rolled down to converse with strangers.

There was that time years ago that the antenna got messed up in the carwash, so it only played two stations consistently. I really learned to like those stations.

The back doors were getting stuck every single time the kids would go to open them, and one of us would have to climb in the back seat to punch the door to get it to open. That was fun.

The cigarette port stopped working, so I was no longer able to use that adapter to plug in my USB to charge my phone. It was like the old days with no cell phones by the end of the day with a dead phone driving home!

Then there was the charm of having to drive for about five solid minutes in the cold for the heat to kick in. I either got used to the temp or the heat started working. I’m not sure which one.

To everyone else, the car was old and had problems. To me, I was attached to it. It did me right and I had so many memories attached to that car.

I got that car after I lost my dad. It took me back and forth from my house to college to finish my undergrad. It brought me back every Wednesday night to Butler for two years while I completed my masters.

It was the car I drove the night I went down to meet my husband. It was also the same car that I was in when he called me for the first time, and I listened to the voicemail he left me asking me to go out again.

It’s the same car I drove the entire time we dated and on many adventures. That car drove me to the first house we bought after moving from my mom’s house and to our house now.

It’s the car I drove with my sister to church to get married. It’s that car that I got my first (and only) speeding ticket.

It was a car that had seen many road trips with countless memories. It was the same car that drove me to my first job interview. It’s driven me to my job every day for the last 17 years.

It’s the car that I drove to all of my pre-natal appointments. It’s the car that I drove home in and cried after having miscarriages.

It was the car that I went from a college kid into a mom with two kids in car seats. It went from being covered with college textbooks to toddler toys and a diaper bag.

That car has been loaded down with flowers and materials from many different home projects over the years.

It was the same car that my dog, Stella, got car sick in as a puppy and threw up all over my cupholders.

I’ve prayed the rosary in that car more than any other place before. It’s the place where I would spend a lot of time thinking.

It’s the same car that I drive when I call my mom and sister every day and have talked on the phone for hours. It is the car that my best friend and I have shared our best gossip and secrets with.

It has had sand all over it from many trips to the beach.

That car has taken me where I needed to go. It was there during bad, sad, happy, and every day in between.

Once you own a car long enough, you make a decision on what you’re willing to fix and how much you’re still willing to put into it. It came to a point that it no longer made sense, and we needed to move on. I needed to move on. I defended that car when everyone gave me grief and told me it was time, but deep down knew that it was.

I imagine it’ll end up being some teenager’s dream who just got their license. I hope it treats them well and keeps them safe like it did me all those years. Thanks for the many miles and memories.

Megan Rathz is a wife, mother, and teacher. She says everything she has ever learned in life came from her Master Gardener mother.