Sweet Hotness

Key into the glove compartment, along with the title.  Taken away, forever away…

She left us gracefully, silently.  With 295,000 miles, a window tired of rolling, a seatbelt stuck in “clicked” and many other quirks, she gave up the ghost.  Transmission went out–our sleek, black ’93 Camry saw her last, at least with us.

Rich–my husband–claimed her, she was his.  With affection he dubbed her “Sweet Hotness”.  She rode like a Lincoln and sported tinted windows, a sunroof and a six CD player.  Luxurious? No.  Stylish? Never. Love affair? Yes. Like an old married couple with one passing away, he coaxed her, even in her failing final days, to stay in it, to stay with him.  Oil changes performed personally.  Fluid levels perpetually topped off.  Wipers updated often.  Tires rotated–so she’d believe she had far to go.  He boosted her up, even as she ebbed… 

Then came that fateful December day when she couldn’t anymore.  Forward movement ceased, only reverse–a direction not suited for our forward-focused life.  We parked her off to the side and let her rest.  Like a loyal labrador, she faithfully sat in our driveway, greeting us upon arrival.  We knew we had to release her, but waited til we were ready.  She was still ours, even if we couldn’t ride her.  She belonged here, with us, even though she was gone.

She arrived when our kids were in grade school.  Used, inexpensive and well cared for, she was a steal.  For years, Emily–our daughter–was the only one able to maneuver the stuck seatbelt, and maneuver she did.  Her small willful hands had the touch that made it release–yet sometimes she’d give up and wriggle under the lap belt and behind the shoulder belt instead.  When the belt became impossible we took turns sitting there, ready for sacrifice upon impact.  Sweet Hotness never knew impact, though.  She hummed through traffic and was an easy keeper of boundaries.  Side swipes and rear-enders she averted with aplomb.  Like Marilyn Monroe entering a crowd, vehicles sensed her approach and made way–she was Sweet Hotness, what else could they do?

Even though a 4-door sedan, she was Rich’s sports car.  Her spacious trunk brimmed with bulging golf bags, dirty towels and spiked dress shoes.  As long as she was with Rich, Rich was always ready for a round–I think he loved the thought of it, even when snow forced courses to close.  Sweet Hotness?  Pretty sure she enjoyed the sports car status too, especially when the extra rear-end weight helped her move through snow and ice.  Beyond practicalities, though, I think she was happy to tote irons and woods, as it made him smile…

She doubled as a family car.  When the wagon went on hiatus or Rich preferred her wheels, the four of us would pile into her upholstered, spacious seats for a trip from A to B.  Conversations, laughter and singing surely still resonate deep within her interior.  She provided space for many memorable family moments: road trip games, sing along songs, corny jokes, deep discussions and even heated arguments.  Her comfy seating and smooth riding also promoted R & R.  Sweet slumber happened, and, when it did, it seemed she rode a bit quieter than usual.  I kinda think she liked us all…

Yesterday a children’s charity tow truck hoisted her up and hauled her away.  It was time, three months of mourning had passed.  She’s gone, yet, who knows, children may ride her once more.  With a new tranny, window crank, seatbelt, oil pan, she may glide the highways again…she may help another family move forward in life.  If so, may the residue of familial love and affection that filled her belly bless them mightily…and may God protect them on the highways and byways of life.


3 thoughts on “Sweet Hotness

  1. Thanks for the drop in and Sweet Hotness commentary Ronin and Jessica…this one was a fun one to write.

    Enjoy both of your blogs, btw :) I guess you already know that…can’t hurt to hear it again, though :)


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