Six weeks on, from becoming an official pedestrian, I have sold my beloved car. It seemed to take much longer but in that relatively short space of time; I cleaned, advertised and sold my dream machine.
Dismantling and removing my daughters car seat and taking photos of the car, to showcase its attributes, was so difficult. Placing the advert and dealing with all the interested parties, felt like an out of body experience. I felt like I was watching me do all this. Like it was someone else. Maybe that’s what I was hoping but alas, it was me.
A young family came to view the car. We had a friendly chat and then my husband took them for the test drive. A young man, fresh from passing his test, came next. His Dad drove him to see it; he was so nervous and excited all at the same time. He bought the car, there and then. I completed the paperwork for him. He seemed so overwhelmed. I handed him the keys and congratulated him on the next amazing adventure that lay ahead. I waved goodbye as he drove away. All smiles until he was out of sight.
Right there on my front lawn, I cried. This is so hard. Weirdly I am relieved this is all over. Having my car and not being able to drive it was torture. Dreading the anticipated faff, that I assumed selling my car would be, was a weight heavy on my heart. Listening to my neighbour and husband joke, about how much easier it will be to park outside the property, now my car wasn’t there – felt like an additional blow. My husband meant no disrespect and my neighbour doesn’t even know why my car was sold. It was just difficult to hear. I was busy composing myself, while they discussed the perks of one less car in the street.
From the Wednesday when I found the courage to place the advert, to the Saturday afternoon, when my car was driven away – was 64 hours.
‘There are no mistakes in life, only lessons. There is no such thing as a negative experience, only opportunities to grow, learn and advance along the road of self mastery. From struggle comes strength. Even pain can be a wonderful teacher’. – Robin Sharma
I knew it would be sold on the Saturday, I just had a feeling. On the Friday night, I sat in my car for the last time. I sat in the drivers seat, felt the steering wheel and listened to the radio. I had done this so many times throughout my 20 years on the road. Alone and free. Now I was in my car for the final time. It was raining. I am not even sure why that’s relevant…
I remember talking to myself. Maybe in anger, in heartbreak, in prayer. It is not just the materialistic nonsense of a car. It is what it means for me. In that moment, I asked once again, for my health not to deteriorate much more. I asked for my daughter to be spared my disease. I didn’t ask Why me?
All I want to know now is…What’s the lesson?