Farewell to “the dub-yuh”

We said goodbye to our VW this week. It won’t be able to hold our soon-to-be #3, so we need a larger vehicle. We were going to trade in the Jetta, but since we had a few weeks to wait for our Odyssey (yes, we’re joining the minivan gang, but at least it will by a stylish one), Grant decided to see if he could sell it for more than the trade-in value. He put it on Craigslist, and we immediately had people interested. That car has been in high demand since 2005 when we bought it; everyone wants the diesel engine!

After one buyer fell through at the last minute because they got laid off, we had a lady fly from L.A. to come buy the car. The whole deal seemed so abrupt. The girls and I picked her up from the shuttle, and we all met Grant at the bank. We made sure her check was good, she looked the car over, and next thing we knew, she was driving away with it.

As we drove away from the deal, I was on the verge of holding it together when Eleanor started bawling. She said she missed the Jetta, and we wouldn’t be able to go anywhere if Mommy didn’t have a car and Daddy goes to work. Once that started, I tried to cry quietly in the front seat while Grant consoled Eleanor. I think she’s going to be even more sentimental than me.

We used to always listen to music on the iPod Nano in the Jetta, using a tape adapter. We couldn’t use the adapter in Grant’s car because the tape deck is behind the stereo face, and you can’t shut the face with the cord sticking out. So our choices of songs in Grant’s car are quite limited. One of Eleanor’s favorite songs that has been her favorite probably since she was 18 months old, “Lullaby” by Jack Johnson, has been on the iPod all that time because she requests it anytime she’s tired, sad, or just in the mood.

As we drove away from the Jetta, she cried that she lost her car that had the Lullaby song and she would never ever have a car that had the Lullaby song again. We explained to her that we could put the Lullaby song in the new car, but still it was so sweet and sad. I knew just how she felt.

For me, it wasn’t so much missing the car as it was the memories that seemed to drive away with it. The day we drove our first baby home from the hospital. The day we drove our second baby home from the hospital. Trips to the beach, to Utah, to Daddy’s work to visit him on long days. The seat heaters that I cranked up to help me through contractions on the way to the hospital the first time I was in labor. Reaching back while driving to try to comfort a crying baby. Kids in the backseat wearing adorable sunglasses. Both girls insisting on having a “car cozy” during the winter. Hollering at gas station attendants when they almost put unleaded in the tank. Hearing my daughters holler at every subsequent gas station attendant as a result: “Deeeee-so!!”

You can see dirt on the back of the front passenger seat where Phaedra always liked to put her muddy shoes against my seat. I don’t know how many times I had to ask her not to kick my seat. (Sorry, new owner)