Grieving has gone well, but then it is hitting a bit different lately. My car, which has been a money sucking mess since Day 1, has come to its end. I need to sell it. And it makes me sad.
It has cost 4x what I paid for it in repairs. I should be glad.
But this is the car my mom and I spent so much time in. It is where we traveled the nation, ate many meals in to give her change, and where we found our happy place together.
Selling it feels like giving away some of the memories. We find attachments in things stronger than we realize.
I know for some friends of mine who lost a son and a brother, when the dog died, his dog, it was ripping the wound open again.
This doesn’t feel like a wound. But it does feel like another layer of letting go.
