If These Tires Could Talk
Recently our family had to say goodbye to our 2004 Honda Pilot. If you’ve ever owned a car that long, you know the feeling of saying goodbye. It’s not just a car after a while. It’s a time capsule that holds countless memories. It’s witnessed many of our familial milestones; our wins and losses, our successes and failures, the peaks and valleys of our lives. If those tires could talk, what would they say?
I actually found the sales slip from the purchase of the car, and it’s dated December 21, 2004. I’ll give you a glimpse into our lives at the very moment. We were living in Virginia Beach, and my husband was a third year medical student. We had just had our third child in August of that year, and things were as good as they could be with three kids under the age of five and hardly a penny to spare.
One afternoon I got a call from my husband. He had been in an accident; hit by a driver that ran a red light, and our car was totaled. When I called my parents to explain what happened, they immediately offered to buy us a new car, and allowed us to pay them back when we were able to afford it. I’m sure it was my mom’s idea, but of course my dad was happy to step in and help.
That car took us to countless places, but if you have kids you know that carpool is such a huge part of your life when they are growing up. Imagine all the trips to school, t-ball practice, tap dancing lessons, baseball practice, soccer practice, lacrosse practice, tennis lessons, golf lessons, camp, gymnastics, track practice, field hockey, basketball practice, violin lessons, guitar lessons, cross country practice, choir practice, birthday parties, sleepovers- where you have carted around your kid and probably many other kids as well. Think of all the drive through meals you’ve eaten in the car; all the spills, the fights, the laughter, the getting lost, the bad weather, the tears, the lectures, the confessions and as the years went by, the phone calls. Remember the sicknesses, the trips to the emergency room, the diaper blow outs in the carseats and that time your son threw up on the way home from Raleigh (thanks Carter!)
Each one of my kids learned how to drive in the Pilot. Each kid crashed that car at least once. I think every kid slept in that car at one point or another and it’s not lost on me that there are secrets in that car that should remain as such. I’m fine with all of that. That car gave them the freedom to wander, the freedom to make mistakes, to ability to learn life lessons and to grow into the young adults they are today.
Sitting here thinking about it, I realize what that car actually gave to our family. It gave us time. Time together. Time to make memories. Time to talk to each other. Time to listen to each other. Time to really get to know each other. Time that I won’t get back, but that I know I will never forget. It was a heck of a ride.
