Visualeyes 7

There are 10 days left. This is a deadline I could live without. In 10 days, my sweet, white Corolla will belong to someone else. Hey! I see you out there rolling your eyes like this is no big deal.  And truthfully, I thought I had "conquered" this and moved past it. Until yesterday....

Yesterday I took the baby in for her last "checkup", commonly called the 70,000 mile checkup. (Well actually they did the 80,000 mile checkup because it checks more things-not to mention costs more.) Since I'm selling my car to friends, I wanted to be sure it was in good shape. Nothing puts a major chasm in a friendship faster than a car that expires suddenly on the highway! I wanted all the belts, fluids,  doodahs and thing-a-ma-bobs checked (as you can see I have a grasp of the technical aspects of cars), and don't forget the tires. Turns out the serpentine belt had cracks (there goes $150) and needed to be replaced. One of the tires- still under warranty- had a nail in it and had to be replaced (of course I had to pay for the labor of putting the new one on, geez), and the windshield wipers were getting floppy and needed to be replaced. With replacement of the oil, balancing and rotating the tires, a suggested, but declined, alignment and $300, I got my baby back. (See it cost just like a checkup at the doctor!) There were also notes to flush the brake fluid line and something else I've blanked out. A call to my friends reassured me that they would take care of the alignment, flushing and the whatever.

So my conscience is clear. I'm handing over a car in good shape. But the reality has finally sunk in that in 10 days I will be using the bus and subway as my  mode of transportation  FOREVER. Sure I have some wonderful friends who offer rides. And there are rides to be had for money as well. It's just the finality in that word forever. Knowing that I will never go from point A to point B on my own again, unless it's by walking, comes with some sadness. Yes, I know the world will be a safer place without me behind the wheel of an automobile, but this is not about knowing, this is about feeling. And it just feels sad. I'm not angry anymore, just melancholy.

I know this will pass and I'll get to a place where I can relish and appreciate the challenge of planning my day around a timetable of buses and trains and walking segments. (Hmmmm, sounds kind of similar to planning a day of teaching around lunch, Music, recess, and bus schedule.) But right now, it just feels sad. It's like having a good friend who's lived in your town for years and suddenly tells you she's moving out of town in a month. Once you get over the shock of it, you try to act as if everything is the same; doing the same things together, spending time together. Until you get to the last week.  Visits become more poignant, a voice in your head says, "this is the last time you'll do blah-blah together" and you never want it to end but know that it must. And you start to feel sad, even though you know you'll see each other again. It's adjusting to a different normal, a new normal. You will because you have to.

I will adjust to being a non-driver because I have to. But for now, it's just sad and I am dealing with that sadness respectfully and with dignity....and kleenex!