The minivan I’ve driven for the past couple of years has been declared totaled by the insurance company. I’m kind of in shock. That van (a 2000 Ford Windstar) was the car my mother drove for most of my late teen-dom and early adulthood. In fact only the year before she died (2007), was when she’d finally replaced the van with a Toyota Camry. My sister drove the van for the few years in between my ownership.
Every time I sat behind the wheel of that van, I felt a small connection to Mom and family stories. There was the dent in the rear bumper when Kim accidentally drove the car into the fire hydrant across the street. She didn’t believe the backing-up sensors actually were telling her there was something behind her. The van was our first really fancy car as a family. It had all the cool features: leather seats, backing-up sensors, split audio controls (so parents in front could listen to their own stuff), a TV screen and VCR. We tested its road trip mettle, practically immediately after it was purchased. The whole family, plus Grandma Jones, and Stephanie (our foreign exchange student from Germany) drove from Houston to Tampa for summer vacation (actually, we were taking Grandma back to her house in Tampa, too). That was our last, all together Disney vacation.
I can remember so many times coming home from college and errand-ing in that van with Mom. I loved riding in the passenger seat, chatting about life, etc, spending time with my mom. That van always remained connected to her, even after I wound up with it. Once it came into my possession driving it often felt like one more way to stay close to all those memories.
Of course I put plenty of memories and miles on it myself. Immediately after taking possession of it, Kim and I drove to Tampa from Baton Rouge with Katie Cat hiding out in the back all the way. Nathan, Morgan, Mary, Savio, and I drove it up to Dragon*Con about 7 months later. It was my mid-bulk transport vehicle. More recently I spent the summer hauling new and used, and new to me TVs around, and drove it all the way down to Key West with Mary’s sister and cousins. Even this December Mary used it to drive around with her family that was down for Christmas. And we were talking about driving it over to Baton Rouge for Erin’s wedding this July.
I didn’t really want the van when I first got it, but the reality is I loved it in the end. Sure gas could get costly filling its 20 gallon tank and repairs could be expensive, particularly when done incorrectly 3 times (don’t use Tire Kingdom for repairs), but that van was connected to my family history and my present. It will hold a special place in my car litany and will be missed.
Mary’s mom wrote a poem about the me and my van, which I’m copying below.
Anne’s Tan Van
This woman is named Anne.
If she wants to travel she can.
Anne likes to drive a van.
The one she has is really tan.
In Anne’s tan van you can go,
to a park, a store, or even a show.
Sometimes the van goes fast or slow.
It depends on the traffic, who’s to know?
When Anne’s at the park she might see,
a bench, a trail, some birds in a tree.
With a picnic lunch she will have tea.
I’ll bet there’s a sandwich for Anne and me.
All parks and picnics are not alike,
Anne is prepared if a mood does strike.
The van can bring along a bike.
She can ride the trail or take a hike.
When her travels are done at the end of the day,
Anne can decide to go or to stay.
The van holds friends for work or for play.
They’ll remember the fun even when they’re far away.
Tags: family, mom, travel
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