Nearly 13 years ago, my husband and myself — 6 months pregnant at the time — strolled into the local Honda dealer. We were ready to upgrade his (piece of shit) Grand Am to the more family-friendly Honda Odyssey minivan.
At the time, the revamped Honda entry in the minivan category was all the rage. Unfortunately all the rage translated into “no deals, suckas, cuz we can’t keep these bitches in stock”. So pretty much full price later, we walked away with the only model they had on the lot that was not already claimed.
The minivan was really good to us. It has hauled around kids, strollers, dogs, groceries, suitcases, sports equipment, trash, lawn chairs, coolers, book bags, drunk wives, and a surprising number of well-past-the-expiration-date packs of peanut butter crackers.
A few weeks ago, I noticed this as we exited Target and thought to myself, perhaps this is a sign:
You don’t think of a car as holding amazing memories. Unless you are a 17 year old whose second-hand Camero got him a glimpse of his 16 year old girlfriend’s “Paradise by the Dashboard Light“, one boozy Summer night.
But our mini-van helped us make a bunch of memories. I won’t share the sappy ones … like when we brought our oldest son Alex home from the hospital after he was born. Or when his younger brother Nick made his appearance less than 15 months after his older brother, and we had two bundles of joy (and double the baby crap) to cart around. Or the journey we made back from the cemetery in horrendous traffic on December 23, after my mother-in-law’s funeral, when I drove as my husband passed out in the back after a week-long (very little sleep) vigil at his mom’s bedside after she was diagnosed with and suddenly died from cancer.
Or the less sappy memories of trips to baseball, football, and lacrosse fields with all that damn gear, coolers, lawn chairs, and other crap you have to haul around. And people wonder why basketball (you only need shoes and a ball, people) is so appealing.
Nope. More like these memories:
- Our first trip to
Do I Hear Banjo Music?Charleston, WV to visit my husband’s father and his wife for Thanksgiving.
- The time we drove back from my parents house and the wheel almost came off the car. Turns out the mechanic who had recently put on new tires had forgotten to tighten the lug nuts completely. I would have loved a chance to tighten his lug nuts as a thank you for that terrifying experience. And not tighten his lug nuts in the good way, if you know what I mean.
- The wacky conversation I had with my sons and husband in the minivan one afternoon.
So, thanks for the memories. And the 180,000+ miles, dear Odyssey.
I hope our new car Pilots us in the same fun, amazing, and delightful direction.