The Small Things

Today, after two weeks without my own car, I got it back.  It got hit, back in February, by a person backing out of the driveway at my parents house where I was visiting.  As you can see, before I got all the stuff worked out with the culprit’s insurance company, it took close to three months.

The body shop gave me a loaner, which I had for two weeks.  It was a marginally trusty ‘83 Saab 900.  I was not driving in the lap of luxury.  It smelled of gas.  The passenger side window would not close fully.  The heat was finnicky.  And, Oh! the cruise control stuck in open position at 65 mph (needless to say, that happened only once).

Driving between my home in Redmond, WA and my folks’ care facility in Silverdale, WA was ok.  Until I had to slow down.  Have you ever tried driving in a 35 zone while your car strains to go 65?  I braked.  Nothin’.  I turned the car off.  Nothin’.  I turned it back on and nearly dislocated my back as it went into gear, straight to 4500 RPM.  Yikes!  I had to stand on the brake with two feet to get the car to stop at intersections (which of course were all red lights).

I did eventually make it to my destination.  As I got out of the car, I saw the brake smoke risin’ and what might have been magma flowing from under my wheel wells.  I ended up twiddling with the accelerator linkage and fixing the issue.  I thank God for that.

So now I am back in my regular ride.  While the ole Saab was reliable (and I say that cautiously), I am happy that I now have 340 horsepower available, rather than 95.  The leather is smooth and supple, not some indiscriminate fuzz blotched with all manner of past scary fluids.  I can actually hear myself think inside my car.   I am thankful for my car, and I was for the Saab, despite all of its glaring personality defects.  

I know it’s a small thing, but during this hard season, I loved getting back into my wagon, opening the sunroof, and letting the country music blare.  Just for a while, God gave me rest as I drove.