Farewell Hauler, my faithful friend.
About a week ago, after days of ‘funny noises’.
my 6 year old Tahoe received a diagnosis
so expensive, my eyes rolled back in my head.
A second opinion confirmed the first.
The whole process of buying a car/truck is
6 hours later,
I felt pistol whipped.
Turning my Tahoe over,
pushed me over the edge and the tears started.
It only had 107,000 miles.
In my family,
that’s just getting warmed up.
My husband said my crying is why they lowered the price on my new vehicle.
I thought they lowered the price because of my dirty looks.
I really have lost my touch.
That really wasn’t my plan.
I didn’t want to sell my truck.
For 6 years,
it never so much as whimpered
when I jumped curbs,
hit pot holes,
had its windshield cracked by spraying gravel,
filled the back end with plants,
Oh my, the junk.
It played my music
listened to me sing,
rehearse my AP English III lessons,
and its steering wheel cradled my head when I cried.
It held this precious cargo
It protected me in a wreck on 59 in Houston
during rush hour traffic.
It hauled as fast as I could handle,
(a 6 1/2 hour drive that I made in 5 1/2 hours),
to an emergency room in downtown Houston,
when my husband was
very ill after surgery.
It pulled up to the drive thru window here,
so I could pick up 2 regular Mexican plates.
I am headed to Round Top
tomorrow in my new Tahoe
to meet my 3 daughters.
I have already told it ,
it has big shoes to fill,
and I will be reserving judgment.