Trade-In Regrets

My wife has a job that requires her to start work at 5:00 am, that’s early in anyone’s book. During the past winter starting her 15 year old Magna in the mornings had been getting difficult; it was time to retire the old workhorse, car not wife. We didn’t think anything about letting go of that car at the time, except that my wife did say as we drove away from the sales yard, “that’s the last time we’ll see the old Magna.” It was a Monday, driving that week in the new car was fun; we all wanted to use it when we went out. Intending to look after this car better than we had the Magna, we even purchased a car cover since it would be parked outdoors as Magna had been.

On arriving for work after a few days off, the wife was surprised when asked immediately about the old Magna. After confirming that the recent new purchase indeed had been made, she was informed that Magna had been in her usual parking place the previous Tuesday. When the others arrived at work the car was sitting there as it had been for many years previously, in spite of being the only car in the car park it was in exactly the same spot and in exactly the same “over the painted lines” style my wife always used in parking. It had been there every morning for the previous four work days, but was always gone when the ladies left work.

They told her about the eerie sight, early morning darkness with the empty, quite streets and her old car sitting there as though it had never left. Two of the ladies knowing my wife was not working, used their cell phones to take photos of it as proof, it being such an unbelievable sight. Who could have purchased the car and by such an impossible chance park it at that time in the morning in exactly the one spot in an empty car park of over 150 spaces? My wife’s reaction that night reinforced the growing feeling I had as she told me what had transpired. She felt that her work companions didn’t believe she had traded the Magna in for a new car. They couldn’t believe it was coincidence, but at the same time knew my wife was off work those days, why would she be there at that time of day unless she had to be. On returning home she hunted high and low for the sale documents to show them she had indeed traded the Magna, it was as if she needed proof herself.

I quietly suggested the possibility that, perhaps it was the car, lost, or lonely, still following the routine it had for so many years. Perhaps the car company was looking for it not knowing it had a mind of its own. These, tongue in cheek comments led to my remembering how we had treated the Magna, or mistreated rather. It had been a pretty good car, more or less reliably doing what we wanted of it. In spite of the neglect, it had done what it was made to do. How can I feel sorry for an inanimate object? I don’t know, I just do. I feel as though I’ve done something wrong to someone and am now remorseful. Logic doesn’t seem to enter into the situation, I know it’s stupid but that’s the way it is. Somehow The Magna has taken on a personality, at least in my mind, and has returned to haunt us for what we did to it. I don’t like feeling this way, it was only a car. But I really wish I had not neglected that car. It’s stupid but I know that for a long time to come I’ll be watching wherever we go; somewhere around the corner The Magna will be waiting.

I hope I’ve never treated a person that way, but I’ll always wonder, perhaps from now on...

JAWhite                                                       Return to Main Page.