Happy Little Trees

Jeep,
I think I already wrote you one good-bye letter, but here's another. I remember when I first test drove you with Mac, and he said, "Act like you don't like it when we get back to the lot." And as soon as we got back, he said, "It was great!" to the sales guy. Dr. Mac wasn't buying the thing, but I forgave him, because he helped give me a guy's opinion on it, and you were great.

Jeep, I have loved you as my wheels. I apologize for letting old boyfriends drive you from time to time. And thanks for letting my mom drive you despite the intermittent pedal-pressing thing she does. And thank you for not breaking down on me except for that one time in Austin where Kelley rescued me: "Kelley, I'm in Austin. I drove in for the day. Now I am stuck on the road--I guess I'll rent a car. I needed someone to know where I was." "Beth. Can I talk now? I'm in Austin. I'll come get you."

You were a great hauler of stuff, too. Remember when I was at IKEA and called T-Lo to see if he needed anything, and he had me pick him up a bookshelf because he knew I had a jeep?

And I apologize for all the times I called you "car." I didn't really know what to identify you as. My car. My truck. My jeep. I always thought that if I said "jeep," people would picture me as Daisy Duke (sans Bo/Luke/short shorts/brown hair/Uncle Jesse).

Thanks for being a good ride to haul Young Life kids around town these last few years. You looked just pimping enough to pass through any unknown neighborhood I needed to go in (or got lost in) with some authority.

You've been a good jeep. Please be good to your next owner. I can see it in his eyes that he likes driving you. Sorry you didn't get to retire in Colorado, but it gets cold there, and you are used to Texas.

So long, blue Jeep. It's been a good ride.

love,
Beth