Dear Civic -

Dear Civic -

I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said the other day. I won't deny the truth - when I flew out the door on Sunday and mentioned to Brian on my way that I was taking 'his car', I was referring to you...but I didn't mean it. Do you remember all the times I've called you 'my little green Civic'? That's how I truly feel.

I know I've been spending most of my time with the van. That must make you feel terrible - please know that I miss you too. I guess we both knew this time would come, but that doesn't make it any easier.

I remember one of the very first rides we took together...we packed all of my belongings into your brand new backseat, and you took me safely to my college dorm. Remember how scared and excited I was?! Remember how sad I was when my parents left? But you always sat right there in the parking lot for me...reliable and ready to take me home through the canyon whenever I needed. Do you think we could even count the number of times we packed you to the brim with friends and all our laundry?! And then all the road trips...St. George, Vegas, California... we had some good times that freshman year.

Oh, remember the accident? The car behind you on the freeway didn't even see that you were stopped in traffic, and he slammed right into you. After the officer left, I picked your back bumper up off the road and slid it gently into your backseat. Even though you were hurt, you still continued taking me home from California to Utah. You sure were a trooper that day.

Remember when we first met Brian? My favorite memory of you and Brian was early, early on when the three of us went to Arby's together late at night. We didn't know him very well - but you knew I liked him...and I was pretty sure I liked him, too. After ordering our food, we claimed a spot in the parking lot to eat. I turned your engine off so you wouldn't get too tired, but I appreciated the music you played while Brian and I talked. And talked. And talked. And talked. Two hours after our food was gone, we decided it was time to head back to the apartments - but you sly little devil! You pretended your battery was dead! I know, you blame me for leaving your lights and radio on for two solid hours...but we both know you could have found enough juice to start up. I know that because after we turned your lights and radio off for 30 minutes, you started up just fine...no extra help at all! You just knew our conversation was going wonderfully, and you didn't want it to end any more than I did.

You were so careful and smooth when you came to pick my brand new baby girl up from the hospital for the very first time. Wasn't she so beautiful and perfect? We tucked her snugly in the middle of your backseat and drove away. You took us on many drives with her after that day (almost every night, right!?) as we tried to drive her to sleep. That was back in the day when I could fill your tank with a $10 bill.

You've taken us across the country, seen our family grow, heard about our struggles and triumphs, never needing more than an oil change, a tune up, or a new tire (except the new bumper, once!), always reliable, always comfortable, always a beautiful, deep, sparkly green.

I still feel the same about you now as I have all these years - it's just that my needs have changed, and you just weren't built to be able to handle three carseats comfortably. I am happy with the van - I know that's important to you - but, the van will never take your spot in my heart. You're my little car, and each time I slide into your comfortable fabric drivers seat, I feel the warm fuzzies of familiarity and love.

Thank you for all the wonderful times we have had together so far.

Love,
Lindsay

PS - I'm sorry I turned your lights off when I was actually going for your wipers on Sunday.