Accidents, Attachments and a New Car

The last two weeks have probably been some of the most stressful I have had in a long time.   I work in an industrial area and with that comes some heavy truck traffic.  They are reckless, they block the roads and it makes for driving interesting to say the least.  Did I mention that I drive a small car? A Chevrolet Spark to be exact.  Anyway, the Wednesday before last, one of those trucks didn’t see me, crossed over into my lane and damaged my poor little car badly…two gouged doors, a bent wheel/axle, a damaged bumper and the central locking is poked.  I am lucky that it wasn’t worse and that my car took the damage instead of me.  It was my first accident and to say that I’ve been feeling gutted would be an understatement.

I bought the car back in 2007.  It was my first real car, a demo model, and I was so proud of it.  Proud of the fact that my degree was finally paying off and that I was earning a salary that could allow me to become independent.  Jason and I have been through so much with that car.  It moved us into our first flat, carried us on endless band related trips and was our partner in crime for many adventures.  From being lost in the sugar cane fields in torrential rain to more sane trips around Durban and the surrounding areas it always got use where we needed to go safely.   It was full of friends, full of loud music, band paraphernalia and cigarette ash.  Sometimes, we hardly even had the money to fill the tank other times it was washed weekly and filled regularly!  In fact, I still have a scar on my finger from one of those washes.   It moved us into our second flat too, it was there on our wedding day and looking at it all mangled up really does break my heart. 

There is more to those memories than just Jason and I.  On the day that I took ownership of my car, my beloved Gran passed away.  What started as one of the most exciting days of my life ended as one of the saddest.  And one of its first trips was carrying us to family and funerals.  Later, I remember my Granddad telling my mom how proud my Gran would have been to see me with my new car and my new life, happier than I had been in a long time.  In a strange way, this car has always reminded me of both my grandparents and when I miss them terribly (like I do most days) it comforts me to know that they would be proud of the person that I have become. 

It’s amazing how attached you can become to something like a car.  I guess it’s because you spend so much time in your car, dealing with life, on the way to places that matter and people you care about.  The bright spot about this whole car mess is that we are now the proud owners of a shiny new car.  

Its red, it’s bigger and it’s ready and waiting for brand new memories.