Flashback Friday....The Wagon

I've been thinking about this for one year now.
I've debated writing about it because I know there are logical people out there that will try to convince me that the universe does not always revolve around certain cause and effect actions or inaction. I know this, but I often choose to use it to make sense out of events and attach reasons to things.

Rewind to 2002:
Most of you know that when Dad went into Assisted living, he had to give up driving. I was, as I often was then, without or in between cars and I started driving the Wagon, which was also known to dad as "the best car I ever had." For a year or so I would pick him up in that car and he would have a smile on his face when he saw it. He'd ask how it was driving and if it needed anything. There was an unspoken understanding that it was his and I was borrowing it. He seemed happy to know that it was still around and running.
I, too, grew fond of the Wagon.

I won't go as far to say, "best car ever," especially when filling up the gas tank (even before 3.00 a gallon), but that car grew on me. At first, I felt sorry for myself cause it was old and inefficient. But then it started showing it's character. It showed me (with the help of Mike) that it could drop it's tailgate and carry FAR more than I ever thought possible. Once, when I cleaned it out and almost gave it away...I discovered that the very back seat popped up and faced backward toward the back window...just like in an old school wagon...and I clapped my hands in delight it looked so cute. And then there were all those "treasures" dad had stowed away in those hidden compartments that I had been carting around wasting gas mileage with for 2 years. (every tool imaginable and the kitchen sink...and yes, i do mean faucets for a kitchen sink). It had the perfect flat dash for a Bobblehead dog to find perch and I loved the nicknames others gave it like "the grocery getter." It was so old that it had become hip once again and I enjoyed the smiles on faces of the retro inclined.

Rewind to the beginning of last July.
I'm up to my ears in work during the week and summer activities during the weekend (lots of trips to Lowell) and starting to work on James and Shel's video for the upcoming August wedding. In the midst of all the busyness is the nagging feeling that I should be seeing Dad more than I am.
I come home from work to find a message from "Sherry" explaining that she is calling on behalf of my landlord and looking for the owner of the white station wagon parked out back. I call back and leave a message for "Noreen" who I usually deal with to say, yes, I own the car; and yes, the plates are current; and no, I'm not currently driving it and yes, I plan on keeping it.

Two weeks later, I'm still gone every weekend and starting to spend every spare moment I have working on Jame's and Shel's video and thinking I should just ask my boss if I can take 1/2 days on Sunday, so I can go to see Dad before dinner since it is just getting too hard to get him out to Sunday Dinner.
Then, I get a letter from "Sherry" saying that I have to move the car within the week or they will have it towed.
I cut to the chase, bypassing "Sherry" and email my landlord and leave him a voicemail saying: "Yes, it's my car. It belonged to my Dad and as long as he's living, I'm not going to get rid of it. I've had 2 cars parked here for the last five years and pay for a two bedroom apartment with two parking spaces and if he has a problem give me a call." The next day "Sherry" calls and leaves a message thanking me for the email and for taking care of the "problem."

Two weeks later, it's the end of the July. I'm running out of days off and the wedding is just around the corner and I'm staying up nights, editing video and thinking after the wedding, I'm going to find out more about what is up with Dad and his weight loss, etc.
Then I get another letter from "Sherry" saying that since the car still hasn't moved they will be towing it on Friday unless I move it = get rid of it.

By now, I'm beyond mad, but have no time to deal with "Sherry." She's probably mad because I keep leaving messages for "Noreen." I'm also mad at myself for putting off dealing with the car and all the projects that went along with it and now the grief it is bringing me, so I clean out the car, charge the battery, jump it, get it running and much against my better judgement list it on craigslist at 2 o'clock in the morning Friday A.M. At 10 o'clock in the morning the phone rings and Rufus wants to come and buy the car. At 12 o'clock noon, I'm watching the Wagon get loaded onto his tow truck and can't bear to see the way it is staring me down as it pulls out onto Main Street.


Two weeks later my Dad died.

And you guessed it;
I could not help but feel that in letting go of the Wagon, my dad somehow knew it was gone and let go of his will to live.

Here is where you tell me how ridiculous that thought is.
And I will tell you it's all "Sherry's" fault.

But I will tell you one thing that I have learned.
I'm NEVER gonna let any "Sherry" make me get rid of something I'm not ready to get rid of...ever again.

AND....if you see "Sherry" or my Landlord for that matter, tell them that they owe me $4,500 dollars.
After reading the news today, I'm reminded that if I would have kept that wagon, I could have turned it in for a cash for clunkers and got some of our tax dollars back and bought another Wagon. This one as a matter of fact.
You know how Dad loved that free cheese; I think he would have loved to see "free money" go into buying another "best car I ever owned."