1995 Buick Regal: A Coming of Age Tale
I said goodbye to my best friend on four wheels this week. We had nearly seven and a half years of a beautiful friendship, Burgle and I.
She was the first car I paid for with my own money.
With her faithful service I met the man I eventually married, left home to seek my fortune, and started my first real job. I married, bought a house, and birthed two children. I wrote a chapter for a book, served as an associate editor on an internationally published textbook and added two stamps to my passport. I answered more than 10,000 letters, translated a phone call for the office of the first lady of a Central American country... and grabbed naps in Burgle's front seat on my lunch breaks.
I don't care to try and count how many times Burgle helped me move (not to mention the 5 months I was mostly homeless... or had MANY homes as my mother pointed out). At one point, all of my worldly possessions could be moved with only Burgle's help... even my recliner, dresser, and bookshelf.
And let me not forget how Burgle helped my husband fall in love with me. True story.
She was our transportation for our first few dates and I later learned that the confidence with which I gunned Burgle's engine made SOS realize I had some surprises in my personality. And it was alone, in Burgle's front seat as I drove following clues on a treasure hunt, that I realized SOS was in the middle of proposing to me.
It is not often that one hops into the driver's seat of a car as a girl living at home with her parents and steps out years later as a wife of one, mother of two, and manager of four.
Thanks for the ride, Burgle. It's been a great one.
She was the first car I paid for with my own money.
With her faithful service I met the man I eventually married, left home to seek my fortune, and started my first real job. I married, bought a house, and birthed two children. I wrote a chapter for a book, served as an associate editor on an internationally published textbook and added two stamps to my passport. I answered more than 10,000 letters, translated a phone call for the office of the first lady of a Central American country... and grabbed naps in Burgle's front seat on my lunch breaks.
I don't care to try and count how many times Burgle helped me move (not to mention the 5 months I was mostly homeless... or had MANY homes as my mother pointed out). At one point, all of my worldly possessions could be moved with only Burgle's help... even my recliner, dresser, and bookshelf.
And let me not forget how Burgle helped my husband fall in love with me. True story.
She was our transportation for our first few dates and I later learned that the confidence with which I gunned Burgle's engine made SOS realize I had some surprises in my personality. And it was alone, in Burgle's front seat as I drove following clues on a treasure hunt, that I realized SOS was in the middle of proposing to me.
It is not often that one hops into the driver's seat of a car as a girl living at home with her parents and steps out years later as a wife of one, mother of two, and manager of four.
Thanks for the ride, Burgle. It's been a great one.
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