We have a 2009 manual Subaru Outback. And soon, 60,000 or so miles later, we will make our last payment on it.
I get to thinking about how great the car has been to us when our neighbor texts that our interior light has been left on all night. It’s definitely Gus’s fault–but that’s beside the point.
I throw on my winter jacket, grab the keys, and pray that it will start.
I sit in the driver’s seat and notice my breath. Please, please, please start, I plead, and then I turn the key in the ignition.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the engine is whirring. I sigh and affectionately pat the steering wheel .
I relax and allow my mind to wander for a minute.
I recall the many conversations, news stories, and songs that have held me to this seat, long after reaching my destination.
The places, near and far, our Subaru has taken us. Numerous trips to Wisconsin to see our family and friends. The past few summers, to an amazing music festival in Eau Claire.
Our honeymoon road trip out west–the Badlands, a cabin on Lake Coeur d’Alene, and camping at Glacier National Park. On the way home, we drove scenic U.S. Highway 2, mostly with the windows down.
Our simple, but important weekly grocery trips to Trader Joe’s.
Almost three years ago now, our trip to the hospital delivery room. I labored in the backseat, kneeling and turned around, gripping the headrest. Josh was at the wheel, calmly soothing me.
Then, driving Gus home, so tiny and brand new. I studied each little part of him, simultaneously eager and terrified for what came next.
Yes, 60,000 or so miles later, our Subaru, like family, has been good to us.