Serving the scholastic field hockey and lacrosse community since 1998

April 4, 2021 — Towards a parallel resurrection?

When my parents died, one of the things I inherited was the only new car they ever had, a 2000 Ford.

It was a car which I used to transport Papa to visit Mama when she was in rehabilitation after that awful sepsis infection in 2010, and I would drive him to various and sundry places like the diner, the doctor, and the day I had to go up to the hospital to spring him after he was found with a golf club, mismatched socks and shoes, and a box of buttons.

At about the same time, my sister would often borrow the Ford to go from place to place whenever one of her cars had to go to the shop. She kept a plastic box of ashes (not hers, but a few ounces of ashes from the barbecue we held in her honor after her funeral) in the rear compartment. These ashes — an outward sign of an inward grace — remain there to this day.

The Ford became a link to my parents in a deep, deep way.

When I was a teenager, Papa would sometimes ask me, “When you get older, will you drive me around in your little car?” This was before I ever started driving classes. But when he lost his vision and his ability to drive in his mid-70s, the prophesy came true. Whenever I came home, I drove him to many places.

I would also help Mama with the groceries, also unloading them even during that terrible day when she almost fell down on the lawn because she was trying to walk on the uneven grass.

This past week, the Ford’s check-engine light went on. I have an appointment scheduled this week with a Ford technician, but, after 21 years of service, I think it is about time to let go.

I’ve felt a range of thoughts and emotions, which are magnified by the fact that I have been very much isolated because of the COVID-19 pandemic for the last year.

Look, I know it’s just a car. But it’s so much more — a tangible link to the past.

And perhaps, time to let go.

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