I had a 17 year old Opel Astra that I learned to drive in and then bought off my mum when I got a full Licence. It gave me about 12 of those 17 years before my wife and I decided we needed something reliable with a baby on the way. So it bit the dust and the garage gave me 200 quid for it, i suppose to scrap for parts.
It broke down regularly near the end, and a couple of engine issues gave it a mean growl over the last few years. One time we were taking it through the back country roads of Wicklow south towards Waterford when we came upon a police checkpoint.. it was the middle of nowhere but it seems they had intercepted a dirty diesel operation and were flagging down cars who were approaching assuming they were coming to buy the illegal fuel for their cars. Anyway this Garda (Irish police) flagged us and our car down, he clearly could hear the engine put-put-putting away like a tractor and thought he'd caught us red handed... "You driving a diesel today sir?"...
"No, it's a petrol car."
Disbelief comes over his face and he looks at the registration in the window again... Eventually he smiles and gives me a look.. "well, it might be a petrol but it sounds like shite!"
And he waved us through... At that point we knew it really had to go!
I can relate. In my opinion, saying goodbye to anyone or anything is challenging. Honoring both the hellos and goodbyes you've written about. Beautiful words!
Oh boy. I get this. I've gotten a little more hard-core about saying good-bye to things because I tend to accumulate a lot, but my children, from the twenty-year-old down to the six-year-old, worry intensely about giving away (or throwing away) anything they once loved even a little bit. It's an intense way to live, but also a beautiful one, I think.
My kids are the same way, which is why a major clean out of their rooms is frequently something I have to help with. Decision making fatigue sets in so quickly, but when I put on my mom hat I'm pretty good at facilitating the decisions. And we always save a bin for sentimental things, or clothes we're not going to wear any more, but feel too attached to to discard. It's so hard because I absolutely want to instill in them a respect for objects and a desire to reuse and not waste things and antidote to disposable culture. But there's only so much space in the house!
I so relate to this! And I remember feeling the same way when I read this poem back in February. I love the 'things' in my life. Which to me, are much more animate than we give them credit for. I'm also very much in the phase of life where I fully know that 'they don't make things like they used to'. 😂
And congratulations on your new car, Tara. May it carry you on many grand adventures, safely passenger you and the souls you love, and be filled with great memories (and a few good sing-a-longs). 🚙
My daughter gave me a pretty little dish shaped like a curled ginkgo leaf for my birthday this year. It sits on my desk and hold small thises and thats. I'm already so attached to it. The shape, the color- It's funny how some objects become special right away and others take time to become essential. And thanks for the congrats on the car. We tend to hang onto our vehicles for a long time, so it definitely feels momentous to have a new one!
I have not always named my cars, but I'm definitely looking for one for my new girl. My kids cars both have names, which definitely makes them feel like family members. Thanks for reading!
"I am intensely loyal to the objects in my life that have served me well." O Tara, this west-coast animist feels that! And yes, all the pens and shirts and worn-out appliances that are so hard to discard because, what if they feel abandoned.... Would I want a different kind of brain? I'm not sure I would. It would be a lot more convenient some days, though.
I think maybe the trouble is that we don't have good ritual for this kind of thing. Or at least I don't. Maybe if I take time to say thank you to the things I need to discard, I'll feel less guilty. We should write a poem of farewell for the purpose.
I’ve started saying “Thank you for your service” to things like old toothbrushes and defunct pens, when I (finally) throw them away. It’s a tiny ritual, at least.
I had a 17 year old Opel Astra that I learned to drive in and then bought off my mum when I got a full Licence. It gave me about 12 of those 17 years before my wife and I decided we needed something reliable with a baby on the way. So it bit the dust and the garage gave me 200 quid for it, i suppose to scrap for parts.
It broke down regularly near the end, and a couple of engine issues gave it a mean growl over the last few years. One time we were taking it through the back country roads of Wicklow south towards Waterford when we came upon a police checkpoint.. it was the middle of nowhere but it seems they had intercepted a dirty diesel operation and were flagging down cars who were approaching assuming they were coming to buy the illegal fuel for their cars. Anyway this Garda (Irish police) flagged us and our car down, he clearly could hear the engine put-put-putting away like a tractor and thought he'd caught us red handed... "You driving a diesel today sir?"...
"No, it's a petrol car."
Disbelief comes over his face and he looks at the registration in the window again... Eventually he smiles and gives me a look.. "well, it might be a petrol but it sounds like shite!"
And he waved us through... At that point we knew it really had to go!
David, I love that story so much! And so did my husband when I read it to him. I think your old Opel Astra deserves a poem of remembrance. 😁
I can relate. In my opinion, saying goodbye to anyone or anything is challenging. Honoring both the hellos and goodbyes you've written about. Beautiful words!
Thank you so much, Laura. So glad this spoke to you.
Oh boy. I get this. I've gotten a little more hard-core about saying good-bye to things because I tend to accumulate a lot, but my children, from the twenty-year-old down to the six-year-old, worry intensely about giving away (or throwing away) anything they once loved even a little bit. It's an intense way to live, but also a beautiful one, I think.
My kids are the same way, which is why a major clean out of their rooms is frequently something I have to help with. Decision making fatigue sets in so quickly, but when I put on my mom hat I'm pretty good at facilitating the decisions. And we always save a bin for sentimental things, or clothes we're not going to wear any more, but feel too attached to to discard. It's so hard because I absolutely want to instill in them a respect for objects and a desire to reuse and not waste things and antidote to disposable culture. But there's only so much space in the house!
I so relate to this! And I remember feeling the same way when I read this poem back in February. I love the 'things' in my life. Which to me, are much more animate than we give them credit for. I'm also very much in the phase of life where I fully know that 'they don't make things like they used to'. 😂
And congratulations on your new car, Tara. May it carry you on many grand adventures, safely passenger you and the souls you love, and be filled with great memories (and a few good sing-a-longs). 🚙
My daughter gave me a pretty little dish shaped like a curled ginkgo leaf for my birthday this year. It sits on my desk and hold small thises and thats. I'm already so attached to it. The shape, the color- It's funny how some objects become special right away and others take time to become essential. And thanks for the congrats on the car. We tend to hang onto our vehicles for a long time, so it definitely feels momentous to have a new one!
I love this, Tara! I feel like the objects I love contain pieces of myself. And I always name my cars.
I have not always named my cars, but I'm definitely looking for one for my new girl. My kids cars both have names, which definitely makes them feel like family members. Thanks for reading!
"I am intensely loyal to the objects in my life that have served me well." O Tara, this west-coast animist feels that! And yes, all the pens and shirts and worn-out appliances that are so hard to discard because, what if they feel abandoned.... Would I want a different kind of brain? I'm not sure I would. It would be a lot more convenient some days, though.
I think maybe the trouble is that we don't have good ritual for this kind of thing. Or at least I don't. Maybe if I take time to say thank you to the things I need to discard, I'll feel less guilty. We should write a poem of farewell for the purpose.
I’ve started saying “Thank you for your service” to things like old toothbrushes and defunct pens, when I (finally) throw them away. It’s a tiny ritual, at least.
I loved Northern Animist, New Englander that I.
Thank you, Tara.
Thanks you for reading, Frances! And for taking the time to comment.