Goodbye is Never Easy

A little melancholy today. My car, my old, faithful (mostly), pal and chariot, was unceremoniously hauled off on a flat-bed as "salvage". Back in July, it began to act as though it was tired of going places. Broke down and left me stranded with two little girls on my hands on one of the hottest days of the Summer. Had to be towed, TY AAA, and the next day I got the news that it was a blown fuse. At $120.00, a pretty expensive fuse. But it seemed as though the problem was solved. Ah, but no. A couple of weeks later, the same thing happened. Dtr-in-law rescued me and the following day, son got it going with a new fuse and it looked like I could simply carry a supply of fuses and be okay. Heading to shop for a few items and my brakes failed. Boy, howdy! Didn't expect that. Managed to limp to my neighborhood mechanic who effected a repair and that was $200.00. Good to go, right? Nuh-uh. A few days later, the Old Grey Ghost gave it up. Gave up the Ghost, that is. Stranded me in the middle of five lanes of traffic on a busy afternoon. Kind Sir pushed me off the road. Once again called the DIL and she agreed to come for me. While I waited, I turned the key and the sucker started. I began to drive (a circuitous, back-street route) and managed to make it home. Where I promised that I would never again attempt to make the car do what it obviously wasn't willing to do. It had performed yeoman service for 23 years. That's right. Twenty-three years. Time to let it rest. DIL shopped around and found me a deal on a 2013 Honda Civic. (I've always been a Toyota girl but you take your deal where you find it. On Tuesday, I drove home in a car that is smarter than I. I swear. Only problem is, the Old Grey Ghost is in the garage, leaving no room for the New Grey Ghost. This cannot be allowed. I found a web-site called Peddle.com, that offered to give me a quote based on the answers to a few questions concerning age and condition. Got a quote. All I had to do was accept it. But I couldn't. I was 1. afraid it was a scam, and 2. reluctant to say goodbye. In the end, after 48 hours of pondering, I pulled the trigger, accepted the offer, and 12 hours later, a wrecker was at my door. I signed over the title, the man handed me cash, and my old faithful pal was off to the Big Junkyard in the Sky, or where ever it is. And I felt a twinge of melancholy as I pulled my new bestie into the garage. I don't foresee a 23 year relationship with this one. At least not on my part. But for however long it lasts, just get me "there" and "back", 'kay?