The Car.

While driving my little white car with the bite out of the back end, or rather, while thinking about all I needed to get done, the little white car drove down the busy four lane road from one purpose toward another.  My mind was not on the road or the other drivers, though the street was quite busy.  And then, there it was in the parking lot across from the mall.  A shiny gold recent model Thunderbird with a big For Sale sign in its windshield and a number I could not read as I passed by.
Just seeing it lifted my spirit a little, though I really didn't wish to buy it.  It was beautiful, flawless for what I could tell.  I am quite sure it gets less MPGs than my Nissan and one day in the future, my Nissan will have cosmetic surgery.  My mind went back to earlier days and a different life.
I was a young mother, struggling with day to day existence.  Working as a freelance artist and a piano teacher.  At times the freelancing was lucrative; at times it left a lot to be desired and paid for.  Who hasn't hoped to win the PCH millions?  The teaching was a fairly stable if inadequate income and I juggled and saved and it was always just enough.  Then the delicate balances on the vehicle I was driving went out of balance.
We shopped for a car and ended up in debt for a new blue Chevrolet that I could not afford and did not love.  Though I was assured that it was the car for me, I was pulling for a small sporty gold Pontiac.  I was allowed to let that dream slide for the reasoning of another.  Within a month it had broken down twice.  They fixed it.  Within six months it had broken down at least 5 times and it was taken back to the dealer.  I was glad to see it gone.  I wanted to buy something like the small Pontiac even though I had 4 children and the car seated 5 comfortably.  I was told we would get by with what we had: an old pickup that sported as many dents as mechanical problems.  One day I learned that the car had been repossessed.  Believing it was possessed the whole time, I felt sorry for whoever owned it now.  Seems the money I saved went for something other than what I thought.
A colleague came to visit.  He'd heard of my plight and had a vehicle he wished to unload.  It was only a couple years old and was kept in perfect shape, had all the bells and whistles and ran like a dream.  His wife wanted a different car and now they were car poor, because the daughter had bought her own.  He promised to refinance it for me so that the payments were manageable.  Sight unseen, I agreed. I needed a car.  Less than a week later, I gazed on my dream car.  This was in the mid 70's when 'boat cars' were still manufactured.  It was long and sleek.  Everything about it was luxury and power.  I couldn't see why his wife had rejected it.  I felt like a queen in my enormous gold Thunderbird. 
It was fast and held the road tenaciously.  It was clean inside and out.  It didn't break down.  Its vices were the cost of its tires, the amount of gas it used, which at that time was no object, and the cost of insurance.  I traveled a lot and had a CB radio installed.  I was known as 'Gold Dust' back then, a handle suggested by another driver.  Many jokes littered the airwaves about my speed.  I drove the heck out of that car.  
There came a time when I traded it for a more economical ride.  It was worn out.  With sadness, I realized no one else valued it as I did.  It's era was past.  It was no longer new, stylish or sleek, but I loved that car. 
Eventually my attention turned back to the road ahead and my to-do list.  But some how, the whole matter was lighter.  Just like the car, sometimes blessings come from unforeseen places and events.