The Little Scion that could

Today I had to part with a dear companion forever. A companion who had served me most loyally for almost fifteen years and who had provided me with countless hours of entertainment, listening, and counseling. A companion who had never lost its patience with me and silently let me unburden myself over the years of my heartaches, frustrations, and despair.

The human heart’s capacity for love is immense, and most of us are capable of bestowing our love on not only our fellow humans but also on animals, and sometimes on material objects as well. We all have a favorite piece of clothing that we cherish and cannot discard, or memorabilia from different stages of our lives or travels that we have kept for ages, or the cup that someone gifted us many years ago, etc.  We humans are able to get attached to anyone or anything that we come in contact with that holds a special sentimental value for us.

I personally can get easily attached to most things, from my family, friends, coworkers, neighbors to my favorite café, grocery store, restaurant, etc., and lastly to my car.

Today was a hard day because I had to leave behind my little buddy, Scion, on a car dealership lot in Iowa and return home with Ruby, my new car. Scion was not simply a means of transportation for me. It had been my silent companion for almost fifteen years. That little car was filled with precious memories.

I remember when Shahdi and Lauren were in 7^th grade and I used to give them rides in it. Scion and I were the ones who took Arman and Shahdi to their different appointments all over town. Arman used to love watching the little Scion drive down the hill at Lincoln South-West High-school. He loved my little Scion so much that I offered him to keep it. But, he declined since it is not easy to find parking for two cars in New York. So, my faithful buddy had to go. I just hope it is not sent to a junk yard but is adopted by another driver who would keep it for a while longer. The little Scion had an engine that still could go on for thousands of miles.

For many years after Shahdi’s passing, the little Scion was my only refuge where I could freely let out my pain, dark emotions and agony without anybody hearing me. It served me dutifully as a silent counselor who simply listened. It provided me with a venue to release the pent-up anguish in my raging soul. With no judgments, no scolding, no negative commentary.

The last thing I did before saying my final farewell was to remove the CD which had been played over and over since December 2013. The soothing CD my older brother had burned for me shortly after losing my beautiful daughter.

But, as a mother, I could not leave without giving my little Scion one last hug and kiss. Thank you for having served me so reliably for such a long time and for having been a part of my life.