Yesterday, my mother-in-law was in an accident. She is battered and sore, but otherwise okay. The accident wasn't terrible compared to most, but the airbag did cause quite a bit of trauma to her. We are very grateful that it wasn't any worse.
However, we are a bit sad that her car will more than likely cease to be a member of our family. It was a '93 Nissan Sentra, burgundy red, 2 door. Great little sports car. My husband purchased it brand new well before we met and it only had 80+ miles on it the first time he got to drive it.
I met Brian a year or so later and we were married within a few months. We then became a 2 car family. We had Brian's "cool" car and my boring Chevy Cavalier. Although my car was cool in its own way, Brian's was still way cooler. (Yes, I still say "way cooler." Mainly just to embarrass my kids.)
At one point during our marriage, we traded in my Cavalier for a station wagon. Brian had begun a cleaning business before we met and he needed something better to haul his carpet cleaner around in. I cannot begin to tell you how much trouble it was getting that bulky machine out of a little sports car trunk. I'm not even sure how we even got it into the trunk in the first place. It was a tight squeeze, that's for sure.
So the little sports car became "my" car. Yes, I got to drive it most of the time, and I loved it. Sometimes I miss it, and then I remember what a pain in the rear it was to get an infant in a bucket seat in and out of that thing. Man, that was an ordeal! And then there was this one time that I parked the car and got out, and then shut the door. But, I forgot to remove my hand from the path of the door. After an ER visit and a hole having to be burned through my fingernail, my hand only hurt for a couple of weeks or so. Word of advice: Always, always, always open the car door before removing a stuck hand. I promise you will be much happier than I was after pulling my hand out of a closed door.
Soon after becoming pregnant with our second son, my job loss forced us to surrender the station wagon. We went to a 1 car family for a while. A few months later, we received an old beat up work van in exchange for refinishing a gym floor at a church. The tank took a lot of work, but it soon became Brian's primary mode of transportation and I once again claimed the little sports car as mine.
In early 2001, as I was becoming increasingly pregnant with our third son, we soon realized that neither the little sports car nor the tank would be able to accommodate our growing family. The decision was made to take the plunge and buy a minivan. The little sports car had been such a great part of the family that it was really hard to part with it by this point.
So, we sold it to Brian's parents, and they have driven it ever since.
Until, Saturday afternoon.
Goodbye, little sports car. Thank you for a lot of great years.
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