Member-only story
My Worn-Out Car Tells the Story of My Past
And my new one sings a song of my future
If my old car could talk — oh the sounds you’d hear and the stories it’d tell.
Just a quick walk around the unassuming grey exterior of my 2011 Subaru and you’ll begin to see and hear its story. A close look at its hood reveals the soft taps of sap drippings that remain stuck like glue on its painted surface from years of parking it under an evergreen tree.
Sprinkled among those sap drops are the pitter-patter of pockmarks from a hailstorm that swept through as it sat unprotected outside my office building one summer day. Over the wheel wells, rusty patches chomp away at the metal.
Open up the door and the evidence of outdoor explorations greets you in the form of sunscreen, bug spray, and a host of maps stuffed in the passenger door pockets. Pop open the glove box and out rattles cow bells, race numbers, and a small tin of safety pins holding the memories of a multitude of my kid's mountain bike races.
Peek in the back cargo area and you’ll hear my dad’s caring voice wrapped around a small shovel he gave to me in case I ever got stuck in the snow. At the time, I rolled my eyes at what seemed like an unnecessary item but I later thanked him for his thoughtfulness. I’ve used that shovel more than I ever…
