It is sitting in my Aunt’s car port looking sad, forlorn and undrivable. I know it’s just a car but for almost 14 years it’s been part of my identity. People knew me by my sunshiny yellow bug. They always smiled when they saw me in it. And I used to love seeing kids faces light up as they saw it and then joyfully punched each other in the arm. Even parents got a kick out of it and now and again even mostly sullen teenagers would temporarily relive their childhoods when they saw it.
When I commuted to work it became a place of prayer and joyful singing and sometimes tears. I had 35-40 minutes each way in it. It was a Holy bug. I listened to the Bible all the way through on CD, and Handel’s Messiah during Christmas and Easter. I confess sometimes I had to also ask forgiveness for the names I called stupid drivers on the road. Who doesn’t have a little road rage at least part of the time.
My buggy was also where I would sometimes sneak into the parking lot at Intel to catch a power nap in the middle of my 12 hour shift. I don’t think I have slept as soundly since. I still remember one day I had the sunroof open and a dove perched itself on the edge and looked down at me.
I was rear ended a week and two days ago, but whose counting? I was minding my own business stopped and waiting, yielding for someone who was making a left turn up ahead of me. I looked in the rearview mirror and realized the truck coming up behind me was not going to stop. There was nothing I could do. I felt the sickening impact and mentally I hear it again and again.
My buggy was in almost perfect shape. For 14 years it has been maintained and loved. There have been times I have been very grateful I bought the extended warranty and even after the new transmission, I forgave it. Some thought I should just trade it in. It had electrical problems, and at times I cursed it when the blinkers went out for umpteenth time.
But for some reason I just couldn’t let it go. When I moved back to California my commuting days were over. Everything in this town is only 5 minutes away. I always said I’d drive it until the doors fell off. Until now. I have been robbed of that chance by someone with no insurance or driver’s license. And I even feel bad for him.
If I had sold it before the wreck, could have gotten high blue book. In fact not too long ago someone left a note on it, expressing an interest in buying it. Did I mention it was paid off? Yes, I have not had a car payment for several years. That will have to change now too.
Today on my walk I saw two yellow buggies and one red one. Today when I go to the library I won’t get to park my yellow car by the yellow cottage and pretend it’s where I live. But enough sadness. There were no injuries in the accident and I know it could’ve been much, much worse. I know it’s only a car.
But it was my Buggy and I loved it.