This past week we sold our big Buick. It was a gut-wrenching moment for us both I think. I could hear her big V6 crying out to me as the buyer drove her away. "How could you let me go so easily?" she seemed to implore.
"I got two words for you," I gently responded. "6000 dollars."
In tribute to you, dear Buick, I cast my mind back on our fondest memories together:
Remember that one time when we were driving, and there was that one gas station, and I put gas in you? That was great.
And then there was the day we were driving... so much fun.
How can I forget the night we were driving and I got something at the store and I put it in the trunk. Remember? You started on the first try afterward. It was surreal.
Or what about that morning when we were driving and I stopped somewhere for something, then I put you in reverse and we turned around. I don't think I'll ever forget that.
Parting is indeed sweet sorrow. Thanks for the memories.