I cried all the way home on my 30-minute commute yesterday afternoon. I wasn’t crying because something bad had happened at work or because I had lost a friend or family member. I was crying because we were about to trade in the mini-van I had been driving for seven years.
I realize most people won’t understand the attachment, but it isn’t really an attachment to the van, but to all of the family memories we created in the van. We had so many amazing family vacations. We drove to South Carolina so my kids could play at the beach and build sand castles. My kids learned about history first-hand when we drove to Washington D.C. to tour the capital and see the monuments. We made the long, boring trek across Arizona to view the wonder of the Grand Canyon.
Last night, I packed up those memories with my belongings to be moved to my new van. Tomorrow, my family will begin making new memories. They will be different, but still amazing.