GALVESTON DAILY NEWS:
According to automotive experts, SUV’s devalue at 10% per year—all but mine. And I’m the third owner.
I bought it new for my daughter’s high school graduation present. It had a big red bow.
She took it to college in Cincinnati, and to summer jobs along the way. It was filled with parking stubs from the campus garage. I’d help her load up the truck and move from place to place, then I’d catch a plane home. Each time she’d drop me at the airport and drive away, blond mane billowing.
Then she moved to Manhattan, where people don’t drive, they walk—or if they have time they take a cab. She needed money so I bought the truck again, this time from her.
I always intended to sell it, but kept putting it off.
I drove it when I missed her. That meant most days.
Valets snickered when I climbed out of the old beater in a business suit, but that’s because they didn’t know about its unique features. The driver’s window made a whistling noise courtesy of a burglar who broke in for my daughter’s laptop. The bumper had an unusual design where she backed into a poll.
Yet, its value only increased because it reminded me of her.
As the repair bills mounted, I knew I would have to sell. When that day came, I tried to assuage my pain by trading for a shiny sports car. It didn’t work. As I pulled off the lot, in my rearview mirror I could see only my daughter in her ancient SUV waving goodbye.
Now each morning, instead of her truck, all I have left is an old Cincinnati parking stub taped to my computer. I do miss her so.
Malcolm D. Gibson
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