Yes, I completely understand that I’m writing not just about my car but also to my car.
When I was 16, I plastered a Fox Racing, a dance academy star, and a Kauai sticker onto the windows of my vibrant, candy blue Ford Focus and hung a Bahama Breeze air freshener from the rearview mirror. While the stickers now remain faded and cracked, I refuse to let the memories I’ve made with my car ever fade from my heart. Here’s to my first car.
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To my dearest Curtis,
I’ve grown up with you. You have represented a time of youth, adventure, and struggle. Luckily, I am nowhere near the same girl I was four years ago let alone even a year. We began our journey in January of 2012 and to be completely honest, you’ve been such a blessing to my soul. I want to take the time to express both my apologies and my gratefulness to my little Ford, as it has symbolized more than just a drive but a crucial component of my life these past four years.
Let’s just go ahead and start with the apology portion of this letter.
I know you have some dents and scrapes here and there (my b), but don’t we all? I mean, for months I was forced to hold the driver’s side door shut with my right hand while I drove with my left hand so the door wouldn’t fling open from the broken latch—the anxiety clearly beaming off my face while on the highway. I’d like to say you’ve kept me entirely safe but I may have to reconsider that one. Anyways, I digress.
I know I’ve left way too many Starbucks cups, Tupperware containers, forks, coffee mugs, and Ninja Turtle water bottles scattered around as well as wrappers in the smallest compartments and it saddens me to say that I don’t wash your pretty blue exterior quicker after a dusty ole haboob. Oh, and I apologize for that time you had to bring a gutted deer back from the countryside during bow season along with the smell and fur that insisted on lingering way longer than it should have. It’s my fault for leaving a large shelf in the backseat for months, but unfortunately I don’t think the TV that took its place is going anywhere anytime soon. In addition, I will also apologize for the current state of the backseat—you can blame two drunken boys for those McDonald’s french fries on the floor and probably in crevices I have yet to discover. They’re just lucky it made a funny Snapchat.
While I know that was plenty to apologize for, luckily there’s even more to be thankful for.
The earliest recollections I have with you are high school parking spaces and Shake Shoppe drive-thru lemonades on my way to dance practice. I remember blasting my CD’s when I just couldn’t handle another one of the radio’s pop-country songs. Now I just hand over the aux cord when my music choices don’t quite measure up to someone’s Mill pregame credentials. Thank you for being my means of transportation to and from high school and college classes every weekday. Thank you for taking dance team members to practices, dinners and games and for not being judgmental about the smell of my shoes like everyone I know who comes in close contact.
Thank you for the times with my best friend. Thank you for being a personal getaway whenever I just wanted to aimlessly drive around the city bawling my eyes out and for when I just wanted to sit in the driveway listening to music. Thank you for the moments I shared kissing boys and falling in love and for the moments those boys broke my heart—both of which taught me lessons I never expected to learn so soon.
Thank you for the road trips through sunny California and the windy roads of Southern Ohio that I still get nauseous from. Thank you for the trips to Sedona’s beautiful red rocks and for keeping my parents safe when they traveled all the way from Ohio to Arizona to bring you and I together. Thank you for the camping trip in Yosemite National Park, even though you decided there was no better time for your battery to die than in the middle of the woods. You were my bed some nights, but you have always been home.
You may just be a regular car to everyone else but not to me. It’s been a series of both fortunate and unfortunate events that I hope these adventures continue for many more years. Here’s to more memories and cheaper gas.
Love you, bud.
