It's hard to believe nearly 20 years ago, this silver beauty took her maiden voyage. She had clocked 9 miles prior to driving her off the lot. The first (and probably last) new car I have ever owned. Her story initially made a less than stellar effect on my life. I was indifferent at best. I'll start from the beginning though because I think she deserves her own shining moment. Even if it in fact comes at the end of her well purposed life.
In August of 2000, I was finishing my plans for my September wedding. Most everything was planned and coordinated. Flowers were picked, dresses ordered, veil waiting to be pressed. So, this makes the purchase of "Delilah" that much more vivid in my mind. On my way into work, teaching at a job I loved, I was t-boned by another car that ran a red light at 17th and L street. My car (my first Jeep) became airborne flipping upside down leaving me suspended for 30 minutes. I should add that this jeep was my first car I had purchased on my own and in an effort to get it paid for quickly I was making triple payments each month. And as fate would have it, I had only one more payment left on it.
The first thing I asked my then boss, (who was behind me in her own car and witnessed the scene) wasn't if I was ok, but rather, "is it totaled?" She sadly said "yes, I think so" as she sweetly laid on the street with her hand pushed through a small crack opening on the driver side window to hold my hand. I didn't realize I was upside down. I actually wasn't really too panicked at the moment. I just replied to her "well, I think I'm going to be a little late to work today." Shock is a funny thing. I remember a motorcycle cop looking in on me and I heard him say "I'm not touching this." I waited
for the fire department to arrive and use the jaws of life to cut me out . My only casualty was a small bruise on my forearm from one of the firemen lifting me up and over the back seat and out the hatch.
I should add here that my parents had only recently moved back to town and I didn't know their phone number. And in my stupidity as a young 20 something I'd written in fake names for my emergency contacts in my work file (i.e.:Sean Penn was listed as my husband). Luckily, I'd had enough sense to list my sister who was then called. She was a then new mom with a 3 month old. The call went to her answering machine (yes I'm that old) but she heard it and picked up, rushing to the scene. In her re-telling of the story she arrived to find my jeep turned upside down and a crowd with a police officer taking notes. But, she couldn't find me. She yelled "hey where is my sister?!" and someone finally told her I'd already left by ambulance.
Now here is the part of the story that makes me laugh the most and tear up at the same time. She immediately called my dad and said "Becky has been in an accident and she's at the hospital, but...she's okay!" My father in his own panic yells "You lead with that Melissa! You lead with that!" We still laugh about that today. Suffice to say, I was in fact fine. I also made the 5 and 6 o'clock news. It was literally my 5 minutes of fame. (Which incidentally if you live in a small town you better call and tell your immediate relatives and friends you're fine or they WILL HEAR this on the news and panic as well)!
But, I digress. This story isn't about the totaled Jeep. It's about how Delilah (a name Ruby fondly dubbed her) would become my main mode of transportation for the next 20 years. I ended up having to quickly find a replacement car and went to what was then Chrysler Jeep. There were two Jeep Cherokees to choose from. Color options were red or silver. I am not a huge fan of red, so process of elimination I bought the last jeep of this body style that would ever be produced. I remember my dad and Edgar being so excited about me buying a new car. I was less than enthusiastic since I knew it meant having another car payment. I also loved the blue color of my previous Jeep.

I don't remember much haggling or paper work. Just signing a few things and leaving. I drove her home. In the next few weeks we would drive her to Arizona for our honeymoon. She was a reliable work car when we lived out in Rio Bravo that first year. She took us to all of our trips to the beach, held all my crap when we moved 5 times in the next 2 years and she carried my new born baby in her carseat the fire department had installed for me. She would continue to be a faithful friend through several jobs, a growing toddler and a single mom raising her baby all the way into her high-school years.

She had some common issues that come as cars age. A radiator or two needed replacing, a/c would become intermittent, brakes and tires would need replacing. But she carried on. She took us camping and to the beach for our mother daughter trips to find our sea glass. She made it to Ikea and the Chaffee Zoo, to Disneyland and Magic Mountain. But as all things do, she became worn. She had months of breaking down and months where we were home free. I taught myself to change radiator hoses, signal switches, lights and the lift gate strut. I took the steering column off to reach sensors. I wired things back into place to make her start. And I googled "Jeep Cherokee 2001" so often that Google would eventually auto fill it in before I finished typing.

Two years ago, before my dad passed away, Delilah's check engine light came on once again. This time it was something called a neutral safety switch. I had it repaired, but the light returned within a few miles. I took it back, but the scenario repeated itself. I was able to re set the codes and get it to pass smog the August my dad died. I truly felt it was him giving me a nod and helping me at a low
point in my life. I drove it away with the smog certificate as the light reappeared. For two years I drove her with the engine light on. Not wanting to deal with it since it had no real affect on how she
drove. And this past June I began making many (failed) attempts to have it repaired enough to pass California state requirements. After 3 mechanics and days of my life I will never get back, I made a
final ditch effort at the suggestion of the last mechanic. He said he could make it pass by cutting some wires, me driving it to re set the codes and then taking it quickly to a smog check station. In order to attempt this last bit, Delilah in her last hurrah, decided to crap out on the 58 needing a new alternator. I went back and forth for weeks deciding whether to scrap her or risk it. I rolled the die. And this time, I lost big. The alternator works perfectly, the check engine light however will live on in infamy.
I've struggled with whether to keep up the good fight. I could take her to yet another smog mechanic and leave her for weeks on end while someone else attempts to revive her at a potentially high cost to me. Or, I can salvage her for the $1500 the state of California has deemed her worthy of. They obviously don't know her. They don't know how she carried me through the happiest times of my life as well as through the darkest moments of despair. Driving around with an asthmatic child in the wee hours of the early morning and many visits to urgent care. They don't know how she drove Ruby to her first day of kindergarten, and her last day of junior year. Or how when things seemed to never go right she'd drive us up the mountain where we could spend the day breathing clean air and having our deepest conversations. How could they know she held most of our worldly possessions as we made new starts. Or that my teenage daughter would learn to drive for the first time in her. (And how I had always promised Ruby that some day she could have her when she finally learned to drive.)

Perhaps, as I always do, I've thought way too much about all of this. I've written too many pros and cons lists. I've walked away from a dozen used cars and car lots, none measuring up to what Delilah has given to us. Maybe I've over thought so much and so often that I forgot that she leaks oil at a
rapid rate, the a/c isn't super cool and the headliner is staple gunned into place. No, I see her for what she was to us. I see her and I thank her ala Marie Kondo style. I look longingly at the 4 new tires I just finished paying off and the less than 1 week old alternator I just paid for. And as I jokingly told my mom as we drove her home from the mechanic, she's lived a good life, it's time to take her home on hospice and let her finish out the rest of her days leaking oil on my driveway where she belongs.
Tomorrow, I will take her for her final voyage, her last journey and her final farewell. I will drive her to the salvage yard. I will hand over the keys. And she will live on in other cars that will take from her only the parts they need. And they will find a faithful friend. And a spirit of determination from a car that literally drove us 20 good long years into our future.

