My Suburban. SuperGirl named her “Honey.”
Our Suburban was a very generous gift from my in-laws for Christmas 2000. Shock and awe would be a good way to describe the way we felt when we got her.
Today she is almost 13 years old, has over 250,000 miles, and still runs like a charm.
The back seat windows no longer work and the sound system stinks.
She has a few dents and dings and the metal striping on the door is now super glued on.
She doesn’t have video screens. But she does have a cassette player!
The carpet is stained and the finish is coming off the passenger side airbag and handle where the kids have been putting their feet for years.
There is a coffee stain on the carpet and so much gunk in the bottom of the seat pockets that I’m afraid to put my hand in there.
She guzzles gas.
There are days that I fantasize about driving a little two-seater convertible. On more practical days I dream of driving a Traverse with a sunroof and plug for my iPhone.
Honey has been a GOOD vehicle.
We’ve made trips to Colorado and Florida and Georgia and all over Texas in that Suburban.
She gets us to church every Sunday. She’s taken us to visit family, dance lessons, basketball practice, math tutoring, piano lessons, volleyball, and back and forth and back and forth to school and work.
We have hauled bikes to the park and packed it to the roof for camping trips.
The girls and I listened to hours of Anne of Green Gables on the CD player.
Carseats have been rotated through every seatbelt it seems.
One by one the girls have gotten big enough to sit up front.
And last year we taught Summer to drive in that Suburban.
Whenever someone says something ugly about her, I whisper and tell her I still love her. She’s been good to me. So for now, she’ll stay.
My Suburban is a reliable, safe, paid-for vehicle… she’s kind of like an old friend and I am thankful for Honey.