The call came late on Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving. I suspected the news was not good when the message was just, “Please call my office as soon as possible.”
Those kind of calls are never to tell you that you’ve won a sweepstakes. Maybe it’s the somber tone in the person’s voice, but instinctively you just know that something is amiss.
The problem isn’t an easier when you’ve come to know someone who can give such serious information on a first-name basis.
“Hi Bob, returning your call.”
“I hate to tell you this right before the holiday, but it’s not good news.”
“Miss Peggy? Bad?”
“Yeah. Once we had her opened up, I realized that there’s no hope. We just closed her back up and are making her comfortable. She can come home whenever you’d like to spend whatever time is left with you and the family.”
I was stunned. It wasn’t expected at all. I mean, we knew she was getting up in years and had those little quirks that the elderly tend to get – they move a bit slower on cold mornings, sometimes hesitate before heading out to do errands, and it just takes more time to get ready to do about anything.
But to say things were hopeless was something of a shock.
“Damn.”
“Yeah, I know. But I knew you wanted it straight, so I haven’t tried to sugar-coat it for you.”
“Yeah, I appreciate that. Thanks, Bob.”
The holiday was not to be delayed, Almost 20 people were scheduled to appear the next day and expected to be fed. After that, we’d obligated ourselves to go to a celebration at our friend’s house so there was little time for grieving or planning. Others simply wouldn’t understand the feelings that we were experiencing over the news.
So we did as so many others have done and swallowed our emotions, putting on a cheerful front so as to not adversely impact the celebrations of others.
Between the tryptophan from the turkey on Thursday, the wine and utter exhaustion, sleep came readily on Thursday night but Friday was another story. Miss Peggy was home and comfortable, but the inevitable would soon be upon us. Plans had to be made, contingencies anticipated and put into place, and options for immediate resolution addressed. Unlike the others anticipating the Black Friday sales, we were on the internet early, shopping and evaluating the various possibilities on how to deal not with Christmas presents, but with a vacancy in our family that would soon arrive.
Thus was the position we found ourselves after Miss Peggy, our 1993 Cadillac Eldorado had been given Extreme Unction by her auto physician. There was no hope, the cost of fixing a leaky sunroof potentially exceeded the value of the car (at least according to Kelly Blue Book), not to mention the coolant leak and other problems that plagued her.
Bob, our trusted mechanic, had promised that he’d tell us when it was time to pull the plug. That time had arrived and our obligation was to accept the diagnosis with dignity.
Thus Miss Peggy found herself parked on the curb with magnetic “For Sale” signs attached to three sides.
Even worse than the crisis of having to replace a vehicle, the timing of the news meant that we had to venture out into the post-Thanksgiving crowds to car shop.
We had previously narrowed the possibilities down. After a bit of internet shopping, CarMAX is now our new friend. Two test drives and it’s narrowed down by model and year, and a few minutes inside to figure out if one was available in the color and options available and we were on our way. The replacement will be here by Noon on Saturday.
Thus Miss Peggy finds herself on the curb, not up to CarMAX standards and looking for a new home where someone will forgive her age and infirmities in hopes that she can provide a few more years of service. She served us well, but economic realities cannot be denied.
Besides, there’s the bittersweet excitement of the new relationship to anticipate.
No comments:
Post a Comment