Thursday, May 31, 2012

Mom loved her big car

Tonight, I called AAA and had them jump mom's car so I could get it out of the garage.  Poor car--not only was the battery dead, but one of the tires had gone flat.  I had the oil changed and the state inspection done in November.  There are exactly three more miles on the car than there were when the oil was changed--from when I drove it home. 

The car is in pristine condition; it's a 1998 model purchased in 1997 and has 36,115 miles on it (yes, that averages to less than 2500 miles per year).  It was the typical "little old lady who only drove the car to church on Sunday" car. 

In mid-90s, she got a wild hair and sold her 10 year old Seville and bought a Honda Accord.  I had one and it was a great car--a great car for me, not her.  She disliked it almost immediately.  She planned to give it to me after a couple of years, so that she could buy another Cadillac.  Sadly, a drunk driver t-boned her one Sunday morning as she was on her way to church.  The car rolled and the driver fled the scene.  Luckily, she was unhurt (See?  Honda's are great cars).  The car, however, was totalled.  No car for me!  Mom got her new Cadillac, even if it was definitely not the way she wanted to get it.

In November 1997, the pearl white Sedan de Ville came home to live with her.  Boy, in its day, that was a car!  I felt so posh driving and riding in it.  We went on several memorable vacations in that car, she and I.  It has always been a good car; not quite as maintenance-free as my Hondas, but pretty good.  And mom loved it.  She liked that it was a big car.  It was easy for her to get into and out of.  It was big and safe to drive.  And, best of all, even though it was the size of a boat, it drove like a dream and had more get-up-and-go than 10 Hondas put together.

Even though she didn't drive much anymore, she could still drive, and was a good driver.  Whenever we went somewhere together, I was always her chauffeur.  All those vacations, the trips to Oklahoma for Christmas, and more recently, even trips around town, I drove.  Her ring tone on my phone was the theme song from Driving Miss Daisy
After mom passed away in January, I started calling the car my my mom's "pimp mobile."  I would never have called it that within her hearing distance!  When I was in Oklahoma for her funeral, my dear cousin's son--who is quite the card--jokingly offered me $500 for the car.  I checked for the value and laughingly declined.  In April, when I went up for Easter, he again asked about the car.  I told him that it had a dead battery now; negotiator that he is, he offered me $300 for the car.  When I said that it had a flat tire too, he immediately changed the offer to $275.  That kid will own the world one day!

After much soul-searching and debate, I decided to donate the car to charity.  They are coming tomorrow to pick it up.  I hope that Mom is watching and approves.  I am finding this process very emotional; I've stopped and bawled about three times tonight.

Goodbye dear "pimp mobile!"