Wednesday, January 14, 2009

My only daughter is very sensitive and sentimental. She got very upset with me once when I through away her collection of used popsicle sticks. She also seems to have inherited my insomnia. Each night she is told it is time to turn out the lights and go to sleep, but she consistenly complains for at least an hour that she can't sleep. Of course, I don't think she stays still for more than a few minutes.

There are several things that keep her from getting her beauty sleep -- her baby brother who shares the room, a good book or her own thoughts. One night a few weeks ago she came to me in tears saying she missed Grandma Great, Don's grandmother who passed away in September. I took the time to comfort her before I sent her back to bed.

Tonight she came into my room looking very upset. I expected her to say that she missed Grandma Great or maybe even my cat Scout who died six years ago. No, it was much worse...she missed the blue car. That would be my '89 Honda that was killed in February 2006. How do you comfort a ten year old when she's crying over a car that didn't even belong to her?!?

Her attachment to that car and sadness over its demise actually eased my pain during that trying time. For anyone who may not know or does not remember the story, a pregnant teenager -- who didn't speak English, didn't have insurance and didn't own the car -- ran a red light and plowed into the car while D was driving with Jack in the backseat. D was transported to a nearby hospital because of back pain while Jack got to enjoy lunch with the friends I was scheduled to meet that day. Later when noticed Jack had a bump on his head and decided to take him to the pediatrician just in case.

It was during that doctor visit that I received some devastating news -- my car was totaled. This was the first car that I had chosen and paid for. I bought it my senior year of college and drove it for 13 years. For our anniversary the previous year, D had the car tinted and installed a new stereo and keyless entry. It was a great car! Even my father decided foreign cars may be OK.

To get back to the point of this post, we took the kids with us to the salvage yard to remove our personal effects. It was during this visit that Anna collapsed in tears. She was so hysterical that the salvage yard employee thought she had been in the accident and was having flashbacks. No, we said, she's just very attached to the car.

She's got a lot of love to give.

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