Who would have thought it would take me more than a year to buy a new car? And how fraught the decision would be at this stage of my life?
The last car I had bought was in 2004, and that choice was easy. I had quickly settled on the Mazda MPV, a small mini-van. My husband and friends scoffed: the kids were grown and gone and the dog had died. So why did I need a mini van that could fit 7 people?
It was all about wanting to feel that my life was still exuberant and full. I wanted to feel as if I was a carpooling mom, but instead of little children, I’d take friends on trips. My husband and I would roll our bikes right into the spacious back and head for Maine.
And the car would help our adult kids finally move their stuff -- nursery school finger paintings, report cards, year books, college papers, CDs, posters, and the furniture we'd been saving for them-- into their own homes.
I wanted my life to be full and this car would help me do that.
It worked great (though our attic is still a disaster area of unclaimed possessions).
This time around was different. I felt that somehow I was buying a car for a long ride into an unknown future. What would my life be like? What kind of car would take me there?
Now that I’d left my job, my “commute” could be anywhere –or almost nowhere. Would I be volunteering in the city? Traveling the country? Still out on bike trips? Working at a new job?
Did I need a smooth-riding, really comfortable, maybe even upscale car particularly good for long trips visiting the grandchildren? Two of them are hours away in a snow-belt town; another in a totally different direction.
“Buy a ‘big girl’ car,” one daughter said, urging me to splurge.
I’d never had a luxury car. Was this the time?
“This could be your last car,” a few people said to me.
Huh?? The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I hope to have a couple decades of driving ahead of me. But if things didn’t go well, maybe they were right.
What car did I want to drive to my grave? How could I possibly make a decision
