We’ve been a one car family for about six months now, since we returned Nate’s fraud-mobile to the crooked thief who rolled back the odometer and sold it to us with “100,000″ miles on it, (which turned out to be a 100,000-mile fabrication from its actual mileage.) With our purchasing pride still reeling from said bamboozling, this week we found ourselves looking for another used car. It was unpleasant for all the reasons that used car shopping is notoriously un-fun, and because it meant the end of Nate’s ideal commute.
The commute that used to look like this:
-mount scooter
-ride exactly five miles to train station
-board train
-sit, read, relax, listen to iPod, make phone calls
-get off train at work right in front of downtown office
Now looks like this:
-Enter new (used) car
-Drive (in congested rush hour traffic) seventeen miles to work
-And back
-Every. Day.
And also means:
-no more $3/wk. gas bills
-no more environmental pats on the back for public transportation use
-no more $20/yr scooter insurance premiums
-no more books completed during commute time
-But, on a gladder note, it also means no more subjection to anonymous “DART farts” in the confines of the poorly ventilated train cars. (I’m sorry. That was crass.)
Truth is, I loved owning just one car. Even with all the inconveniences of a shared vehicle, I loved the sacrifice for Mother Earth and the nod to frugality. My dad says “your life is proportionately miserable to the number of engines you own, all the way from your cars down to your electric toothbrush.” I think I agree with him (though I don’t have an electric toothbrush.) Life was just simpler with one engine, one insurance premium, one gas tank to fill, and only one metal body vying for space in our two-(if they’re both compact)-car garage.
Never thought going back to owning two vehicles would feel like a burden. I’m sure we’ll get used to it quickly. We’re also getting used to the idea of a new job for Nate. As of February fourth, he’ll join a smaller CPA/Financial Planning firm that specializes in asset management and financial consulting for dentists. The thought of having my husband enjoy his occupation more than having his eyelids stapled to the wall is an unbelievably happy prospect for me. I hope the new opportunity lives up, at least in part, to the expectations we’ve conjured. The thought of being permanent, (albeit in Texas,) hopefully for the next three years is also a happy prospect. It settles my anxious little soul to know that me and all of my treasures will stay in this house that I love, at the end of this culdesac that I love, in this neighborhood that I love, across the street from the park that I love, and just a few miles away from the gaggle of girlfriends that I’ve come to adore like a big, surrogate family. The fact that we’re settled is settling in just fine. We’re also getting used to the fact that our son has a lot of gas that he unrestrainedly lets out in the most reverent portions of our church service. It’s happened two weeks in a row now. Could it be the new meeting time? And if last week was any indication, we’re also adjusting to the fact that said son is no longer taking an afternoon nap. That is a big, jagged pill for me to swallow, especially at this extra-rest-requiring stage of my “confinement.” I plan to try waking him up an hour earlier in the morning and engaging him in some very boisterous a.m. play in an attempt to preserve the afternoon respite for a season. I am in no way prepared to bid the blessed nap farewell.
I wasn’t very well prepared to bid this blessed man farewell, either. But that news went down more like a sour skittle than the jagged pill that unexpected death can sometimes be. The void that exists when a remarkable soul dies is always a smidge bitter to process, but he has left plenty to smile about and celebrate in the legacy of service and goodness that survives him. My belief in the continuity of families is as strong as my instincts; I hope he and Marjorie had a sweet reunion yesterday. President Hinckley’s life brought mine closer to the love and influence of Jesus Christ. His death reaffirms my faith in a plan that is much bigger than the comprehensible span of mortality.
Sorry about the car buying woes, but I am so happy for Nate! I really hope that he enjoys this new job more. And I’m glad that you get to stay settled for a while longer. What a blessing! Love you!
your words on the recent passing of our dear prophet are beautiful. thank you for sharing.
What great news for Nate. I think everyone should love (okay, at least like) their job. It makes life so much better. What happy news for you too to be able to settle for a bit. As someone who has turned into a nomad myself, I can appreciate the desire to “plant” for awhile.
I don’t understand prophets, but any death is sadness marked with happiness - happiness for a life well-lived and the reuniting of loved ones. I have always found that death makes me hold those a love just a little closer, since you never know when they might not be here anymore.
Well said Em. Love Pres. HInckley.
Oh, the transition back into traffic is not fun at all! We’ve had one car and a bus pass for two years now and my hubby LOVES it. He used to commute an hour and a half on a dirve that should have taken 25 minutes. This is so much better!
I loved what you said about dear President Hinkley. He’ll be missed by all, but it makes it so much easier to bear when you know how much happier he is now.
You captured my feelings on President Hinckley’s death exactly. I’m sad for me, but so excited for him!
And I really love your dad’s engine wisdom! What a perfect quotable quote!
And yes, we’re loving public transportation and dreading the 2-car days (although I certainly wouldn’t mind trading in our Jeep Grand Cherokee for something that doesn’t eat fuel like a two-year-old with a pile of goldfish crackers).
I, too, will miss President Hinckley very much.
Having Nate enjoy his job will make the commute so much more bearable. Jeff’s commute everyday is 30 minutes to work because he leaves at 6:00 am, and 45 minutes to get home. Although he gets home at 7:00 every night, I am grateful that he is able to come home in a good mood and happy. It makes such a difference, so I hope Nate likes his job. That said, I LOVE having two cars, minus the payments.
President HInckley is amazing! I wonder who was all there to greet him home…
Am I the only one who didn’t pick up on why you need another car? Is it because of the new job? I’m sorry I’m slow. haha.
President Hinckley has been a light in the lives of all who knew him. Sure enjoyed your thoughts about him. You always know how to put such tender thoughts into eloquent prose.
Joan, yes, it is because of the new job that we need another car — the train is no longer an option (boo hoo!) And thanks for your kind words — you are always so forthcoming with them; it’s one of the things I love most about you.
I was hoping you would write somethign about President Hinckley, because I knew you would describe it so well. What a wonderful leader and prophet he was for the majority of our “big decision” years. He got me through highschool, living on my own in college, beginning of marriage, and the begining of my child rearing years! I need to read over some of his words.
Congratz to Nate on a new job! We’ll be looking forward to hearing about it.
Man I hope this new job is a breath of fresh air for Nate (and you). Blaine liked the picture you put up of President Hinckley. He said, “Ink-ee! Funny!” And lo and behold it did appear that President Hinckley was chuckling about something in that picture. It was a nice shot of him.