RIP Lilith

Now that I'm living in a city with public transportation, the cost-benefit analysis of keeping my car suggests that it's time to put Lilith down.  So on Monday, she's being donated to Cars for Kids.  She wasn't going to pass inspection again given the ever-growing crack in the windshield, she gets bad gas mileage because of the problem with the oxygen sensor, she has profanities keyed into her backside, she needs new tires soon, she freezes shut every winter, and she's 50,000 miles past her life expectancy.  Nevertheless, she hasn't broken down since June 2003, when she broke down twice in two days leaving me stranded and causing me to miss a bridal shower.  We didn't break up then, and over our time together since October 2000, we've shared many memories.  Lilith drove around my kiddos when I was a social worker - I still have some toys crammed in the backseat cushions.  I still have sidewalk chalk that I used with the cognitively limited boy I worked with my senior year of college.  Lilith drove me to law school.  Lilith hung out at the beach with me.  She moved me to my favorite city last summer for my internship, she moved me to another favorite city last fall for another internship, she moved me to my new city now for my real job.  She drove me back and forth the 40 minutes to work at the correctional facility last summer, with no A/C in the scorching heat and humidity.  She drove me back home for the holidays.  She drove me to the gym every morning at 5:45 a.m. in the darkness of the freezing winter mornings (despite her strenuous efforts to freeze closed).  She can definitely outdrink you, at least in regards to engine coolant.  She puts back a few gallons of that in no time.

 

She let me roll down her windows (which strangely, rolled in the opposite direction of any other car windows known to man) and let me crank up the radio (which no longer has essential buttons, like the 'scan down' button) and cruise (reluctantly and only at moderate speeds) along winding roads.  With her, I was able to escape every time I needed to, and it's remarkable how she managed to (almost) always get me where I needed to be in my life. 

 

I'm going to miss you, old girl.  Thanks for the memories.