Farewell, Old Friend.

With the very little money we had when we first got married (and decided to move and go to school at SUU), we searched for an old Subaru. We bought one with 135,000 miles on it from a 20-year old Russian kid who had bought it from his Grandma 2 years earlier.  He told us he was selling it because he wanted a Mustang or a Chrysler 300M. We gave him $3400 cash and prayed it would last us through school... we needed exactly 3 years out of it and that was all.

We racked it up to 240,000 miles over the years, but the engine still ran like a gem. It has been our only car for 7 years, until we got our mini van middle of last year. We finally decided that we didn't need two cars (after much debate) so we put her up for sale on Friday morning. By Friday night, we watched someone else drive away with our car. I usually just complained about it smelling like gas, or not being able to listen to music, or not being able to roll down the driver's side window when the AC was out for the third summer in a row, or the gas gauge never really telling me how much gas was left in the tank. But until I was signing the title away to someone else, I really felt a LOVE for that car.  She was like a sister. A white, 1998 Subaru Legacy, sister.

The car that drove us to school, home from the hospital with our "little" baby Cohen, to Joe's first 'real' job, home from another hospital with sweet Elliot Mae, to our first home we bought together, and so many other amazing memories, drove away forever to Pocatello, Idaho.

I know I complained about you a lot, old friend, but you will be missed!