When I purchased my new car recently, I intended to keep my old one for the kids. The old car was having some transmission issues, but I was going to have them repaired. My car had only one previous owner before myself. It seemed like a good idea to keep the vehicle in which I knew the history.
However, the Traverse had other ideas.
I knew something was wrong with the car months ago. When I took it to the first repair shop, they said it ran great. The second place tried to tell me the same thing until I asked if they had actually driven it or just hooked it up to their computer. A few hours later, they changed their tune.
Still not deterred, I then took the car into a shop that specialized in transmission repairs. They called me with two options, repair what they think is wrong or a full replacement. I opted for the less expensive repair knowing the plan was to hand this car down to the kids. Raising 3 boys, I assume someone is bound to trash the car.
Soon after approving the repair, they called me with more bad news. The radiator was compromised too. The repairs needed had tripled in price. Keeping the car no longer made financial sense. I had them put the car back together so I could sell it.
The car stalled three times in the single mile between the repair shop and the dealership I sold it to. I was alone and my anxiety was through the sunroof. When I pulled into the lot I was so relieved, but it took awhile to recenter myself. By that point, I would have taken anything they had offered me.
Within about an hour, I left the dealership with a check instead of the Traverse.
I did not and am not grieving a car. However, it’s a weird sensation. We grew our family to 5 in that car. He did all the research and picked out that SUV. We drove that car on countless road trips. It was just vehicle, but we made so many memories using it. I thought I’d have it a little longer and be able to teach the boys how to drive in that car.
I am fine with the path taken, due to all the drama around trying to repair and subsequently selling the car. It would have all gone down so much differently if he had been alive. He definitely would have noticed the car was amiss sooner. Someone would have listened to him at the repair shops too. At the end of the day, I happily deposited the sales check. I try not to look back too much on how even something like selling an old car would have changed in a parallel world where Tony was still alive.
