Goodbye to a Family

So a couple of days ago, we sold great-grandma Jane’s old Astra.

In a donotreply email received from D.V.L.A. today, I read this:

I remember you walking round kicking my tyres, as if you knew what you were doing!

I remember how the two of you would always wait until the kids were asleep in the back, before you tucked into the crisps and sweets.

I remember you always tuned the radio to Magic FM, you old cheese-bag!

I remember how your daughters always reached their limit around Bristol and you’d have to sing Old MacDonald for another forty miles!

I remember an Aire south of Paris; giant wind-turbines silhouetted against a flaming sunset, and a fairytale playground, corralled by long-distance lorries, where the girls ran free while you searched for the bag with the pyjamas and sleepsuits in it. And I remember thinking: I’m a proper family car!

I loved every minute, even after I knew you were going to sell me.

Good luck and drive safely, wherever you’re going.

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