Saturday, August 30, 2008, was a monumental day in the Hardison home. I didn't think I would be so sentimental about giving up the ol' '98 Honda Accord, but I was and I am, and I figured it deserves a tribute.
Now lest you be thinking "oh please, it was just a car"... let me explain why it was not just a car. Atticus (as named by the Hardison brothers for reasons unknown to me - I can only guess that 1. they must have been listening to a lot of Blink182, which Clint is bound to deny or 2. it was named after dear Atticus Finch) has been through a lot of momentous times with the husband and me. You see, it has been there since the beginning.
He's had the car since we first met in 10th grade. It's the car I associated with the intriguing high-school Clint, and the car with the license plate I would come to memorize and look for on the streets of Mesa. It's the car he picked me up in on our first official hang-out and the car with a radio that introduced me to The Microphones and Pavement and Blonde Redhead.
We had our first kiss standing next to that car, and years later we were driving in it to the spot where I knew he was going to propose. We drove home from the temple in that car right after our wedding. (As we were cleaning it out last night to hand over to the dealership, we found a handful of bobby pins that were taken out of my hair after our wedding reception.)
The poor thing was getting old, and worn with 188,000 miles of memories, but it was just so... comfortable. We'll miss it. Which is probably why we decided to replace it with another Honda Accord that's pretty much exactly the same - just newer (and without Clint's beloved leather seats).
And so it goes; we move on.