Adios, Last Vestige of Independence

Today--if I actually do have all the correct paperwork--I am selling my Pathfinder.

It's only the second car I've owned. My first was a 1980 orange Dodge Colt that I drove during college. The Pathfinder was my BYU graduation present. It has hauled me and my gear around since the fall of 1992. Put 164,023 miles on that baby.

I'm finding I'm much more attached than I thought, which is expressing as general hostility as the day of reckoning/relinquishing neared. It feels like I'm selling off the last vestige of my old, single, independent life--so much of which has been obliterated by the changes of the past year. The Pathfinder seems like the last relic of that era. It compares to the uncomfortable feeling I get seeing my childhood playthings tagged for mom's next garage sale.

We'd talked about loaning the Pathfinder to 17 for her senior year, but the offer was rebuffed. I casually mentioned to a co-worker that we were trying to sell one of our three cars. The Pathfinder was the obvious choice while it still had some value.

The co-worker was interested in the Pathfinder for her stepson, so we began making arrangements. Had their mechanic check it out. We wanted to get a Nissan expert to check out one thing their mechanic had noted, but the Nissan dealership here won't look at any car older than 10 years--their policy. (Whatever).

So now the day is here. The buyer just walked over to my desk to say we can go over to the court house whenever I'm emotionally ready. I guess I should rip off the bandage already.

Which relegates me to being a permanent minivan driver. Sigh.