Thursday, February 28, 2008

Ode to a Friend 2/27/08


Today, she was taken away. I prepared her for her departure by cleaning her up a bit; picking up some old pens and pieces of paper strewn on the dingy carpet mats, removing sticky coins buried in the folds of her seats, taking old repair bills, insurance cards and tattered maps from the glove compartment that now won’t completely snap shut, and wiping clean her front window with a swipe of the still working wipers. I gave her another long drink of Penzoil, that thick yellow life-giving liquid she so loves, but now seems to have a hard time holding in. As a last hurrah, I sat close and took her for a final ride down 7th Avenue and thanked her for all she gave this family these past 21 ½ years of service. She still moves well – although there are times she seems to lose her stride and gives a bit of a lurch. I love driving her manual transmission. There’s a feel of being more connected to the car and the road as you up and down shift. However, the bulb at the end of the shift stick keeps moving in circles as you try to grab hold. You again remember why you are saying goodbye.

She kept all six of us (including Gorby) safe. Colin, Ryan and Drennan learned how to drive a manual transmission because of her. She took all of us on vacations – long and short. There were outings to dinners, school events, skiing, swimming, picnics, movies and many things I don’t remember. As I drove her past Good Shepherd Church and School for the last time, I couldn’t help but wonder what unapproved trips she took with the boys – that I most likely should not know about. She leaves with their secrets intact.

Of course there was the journey we took with the young Flahive sons when they completed their list of agreements and responsibilities for getting a puppy. We drove the Flea Mobile up to a 4-H farm in Golden Gate Park – to look at the litter of brown puppies the boys saw listed in the Want Ads of the Sunday paper. No, we didn’t just look. When we brought Gorby home – she was afraid to be in the back of the car – so we walked her down most of the hill, following behind the Jeep. I am sure the boys held her in their laps the rest of the way home. There were times when we were driving over rough terrain – going over some big bumps – where Marty could see from the rear view mirror, this wonderful brown dog be lifted up, with her little ears flying in the air. Many times, that back area was comfortably arranged with blankets and water for Gorby as she joined us on our many adventures.

This Flea Mobile went over mountains, through snow, water, and got us lost on a pass ending up at the town of “No Name.” -- unfortunately, getting us home late for Ryan’s Homecoming. In addition, she carried lots of food, rocks, luggage, turf, bikes, skiis, our canoe with oars and life jackets, and so many other heavy, large and sometimes dirty things for our family. She never said, “I won’t.” Many of our friends, young and old, were taken on interesting adventures carried by her 4 wheels. All the camping trips, with the people, tents, food, wet dogs, fishing poles and whatever else we chose to push into this space were also part of the journey. All my women’s retreats put her into sacred service – things stuffed inside and tied outside.

She was once stolen from the front of our home --- a day before our family was going on a trip to California. On another occasion – we mysteriously found her across 6th Ave. - -where somehow during the night she rolled down the Lafayette St. hill, on her own – amazingly without hitting anything or anyone. One Father’s Day, years ago, we had just gotten back into the car after we had an ice cream sundae celebration at Lik’s. The driver’s side door was still open, Marty tucked safely in – and CRUNCH - -someone swiped our car – and took off the door….Whew! Another close one, but all was well.

Through these 21 years we had her engine and clutch replaced a number of times. One time, when I was driving alone from Steamboat Springs, in a snow storm, she decided to have her engine go out at the top of the Pass at the entrance of the tunnel. Needless to say, driving down hill on the steep Tunnel Pass, in winter traffic, while having the engine of your car go out, whose electrical system is controlled by that engine for the power steering and brakes ---is freaky. But she and I worked together, slowly rolling down to Georgetown – where both she and I were hauled back to Denver. The good news, we both were safe.

This 4X4 1986 Jeep Wagoneer was a dedicated beast of burden for the Flahive Family for so many years. We remember when we bought her – in 1986 we thought she was pretty special – due to the power windows, power steering and leather interior – what a car. At that time, she cost almost as much as the price of our home. Today, her driver’s seat is wobbly, the leather seats torn, carpets dirty, the back windows won’t open, she rattles when she moves, has an insatiable need for oil, her color is now dull and her décor much worn.

So, we thank the Flea Mobile, that worthy beige steed with wooden sides, for her service and good work. We ask forgiveness for our lack of appropriate attention and care to her needs. We especially are grateful that all were safe as we rode within her arms of steel. Today, I took off her plates, left a thank-you note in her glove compartment and bid adieu. Long live Flea Galahad!

At her waning years, she continues to give. Marty and I donated her to a good cause and place - Colorado Public Radio. Who knows maybe she will be resurrected with a new name and new adventures to be had. Keep watch for her on the roads and toot your horn if you see her.

We have adopted a new mode of transportation – a new Camry Hybrid – we had to be ethical and buy something that was conservative on fuel. This new car will carry the FLEA plates – and the burgundy Jeep will now proudly wear – WINGZ.

2 comments:

sharon Luchene said...

Hi, Diana:
I enjoyed reading "ode to a friend". Everyonce in a while I find a similar way or thing that serves as a way to reminisce about the kids (for me it's my two boys - 26 & 24 and Alyssa who's 17) Alyssa's chomping at the bit to move out. I know it may take her longer than she thinks, but emotionally she already wants to be on her own. "Heavy sigh..."
Read about your son in China... Wow! the earth - and all us people on it - we're sure going through a violent transition. I read recently about those who meditate for peace at a specific time daily. It was a comforting thought.
Well... gotta go. but now you have a "real" comment on this blog!
See ya (sometime!)

Jenn LeBlanc said...

So I am not sure how I ended up here. But I must say I lived a block from you for most of my life. I went to school with Ryan, hit him over the head once with my violin in 4th grade which got me suspended (in my defense he called me a bulldozer-and I learned violence was not the answer) Sorry Ryan.

I drove past that Jeep I don't even know how many thousands of times and thought, huh, the Flahives are still here too. Which was nice in a neighborhood that was changing from the old to the new so quickly. Unfortunately my parents house was sold a couple years ago so looking for that Jeep when I turned off of sixth avenue was no longer a ritual.

But ending up here has been interesting. That Flea-mobile was not just a family friend but a neighborhood icon. So sad to see her go. Best, Jenn