I must preface this post by saying that I slept in a car-shaped bed until I was 12. I played more with my brother's remote control trucks more than my dolls. I cried for days when we sold the only car I had ever known when I was four. I cried when my brother sold him Jeep for his mission. I love cars, and I can get pretty attached.
After five and a half years of faithful service, Zach and I are retiring our beloved Ford Focus. Now, I’ve seen the IKEA commercial and I know that to think that an inanimate object has feelings is crazy, but I do find it fitting to acknowledge and commemorate the service this vehicle has given us.
My parents gave me the keys to the car and a payment book for Christmas my senior year so that I could drive MYSELF to 5:30 am swim practice. My Dad told me that having a car with a manual transmission would attract the men. He was right- even Zach was impressed when we met.
My friend Lizzie named the car Gucci right on the spot. Why, I do not know. But it stuck.
My freshman year I was the only one in several apartments that had a car, which made me super popular. We drove Gucci all over Provo and on hiking excursions around Utah.
When Zach and I got married a few years later, Gucci was the honeymoon getaway car that was attacked by Justin and Steve.
That summer, we stuffed Gucci to his full capacity, put our bikes on the back and drove all the way to Washington DC for summer internships and then restuffed and drove all the way back. The next summer Gucci took us back and forth a few times from our internships in Boulder, and then completed his coast-to-coast dream when we went to California later on.
Aside from the Raggedy-Ann doll my mom made me when I was little, I have never felt so attached to anything. But it’s time to move on. To a Lexus.
|Special thanks to our car council: Hans, car mechanic genius, and Dad, wily dealership ambassador.|