Mazda

Back in 2002, I had a car I loved.
It drove reliably, I could crank up the bass,
and it was PAID FOR.
My mother, from her deathbed...
okay, from the recliner in the living room...
said, "I would feel better if you got a new car."
I was driving more than 10 hours each week
to come see her and Dad.
When I moved to North Carolina,
it would be a longer commute.
Since I had a job in my pocket,
I bought a new car.
Mom mustered her energy,
got up out of the recliner,
walked outside,
inspected the car, nodded,
walked back inside.
The next week, the job fell through.
Car payments, yes. Income, no.
When I moved to NC,
Erik hired me to inspect houses
for homeowners insurance.
As I drove all over the western part of NC,
through various parts of Georgia,
inspecting houses near and far,
the new car hugged the mountain curves,
climbed the hills,
chugged happily through the valleys.
Then I got a job teaching computer skills
to preschoolers.
Three full size computers went in and out
of my trunk each day,
as I went to different daycare centers.
Now, the car takes me all around the county
to visit homes and nursing homes.
I deeply hated this car at first,
for associations with the loss of my mom
and the loss (for a while) of my vocation.
But the car has driven me faithfully
on the road to find myself again.
Zoom zoom.