In Memory of My Saturn

The unexpected end of a very significant era came upon me recently. On my way to work, my 7-year-old, trusty, paid-for little Saturn gave up its fight and putt-putted its last.

I knew something was wrong when a strange noise started coming from under the hood. It got louder. Another noise joined in. I eased over to the right lane of the freeway and slowed down. Suddenly, BAM! The car died and I coasted to the (small) shoulder. I grabbed my purse to call Jason for help, but then realized that, of all days, I had left the phone at home.

No worries. When I bought the car in 2000, I didn't even own a cell phone, so I could certainly make due without it this time.

I grabbed Gideon, his morning bottle, and my purse, and we hightailed it across the feeder road. We ran for the Starbucks like it was the American flag, and Jason later said it must have been like those signs we see on the Mexico border...

Maybe not that dramatic, but it certainly felt like it at the time. The drama continued later that day when we got the report of the damage - busted engine and transmission. Estimated cost to fix it - much more than the value of the car. That sealed the deal. It was time to say goodbye to my little Saturn.

It was a good car. The first car I picked out and bought all by myself. I haggled and negotiated with the salesman until I got a good deal, and it felt great to stand my ground in such a testosterone-filled industry. One of the salesmen even asked me on a date while I waited for the finance department to draw up the deal. (I declined.) In order to break in the new car, I picked up a friend and we drove the entire 610 loop around Houston just for fun.

It was in this car that I heard the news reports on my way to work on 9/11/01. I'll never forget which stoplight I was at when I heard about the second plane hitting the World Trade Center.

It was in this car that I had one of my singlelife breakdowns when I realized that, at the time, everyone in my family drove SUVs to accommodate their growing families and I didn't have anyone but me to worry about driving around.

But it was also in this car that I had one of the best epiphanies of my life - that Jason was "the one" for me. I was driving down San Felipe, thinking about this boy I'd known for only ten days and how he was so different from all of the other boys I'd dated, when it hit me... I couldn't stand those other boys! Or, to be more accurate, I couldn't stand the relationships we pretended to have. They were all about sports and working out and guy time and "me-ism," and those relationships just flat never worked out. And yet I continued to date the same "type" of guy. But now, I thought as I dodged the construction cones on my way to the freeway, I'd found a guy unlike all the others and maybe, just maybe, that's what I've needed this whole time...

Which lead to my last memory of my trusty Saturn - the car seat that sat securely in the back seat. It was in this car that I tracked my growing belly while I was pregnant with Gideon. I would measure it by how close my stomach had gotten to my steering wheel. (It never touched it, but it got within like half an inch!)

Yes, we made it through many years, many miles, and many memories together, but now it's time to - at last - make that transition to the "family car." What does the new automobile era have in store for the Ryan family?


A wonderful 2007 Toyota Sienna minivan. Oh yes, it is the beginning of Emily-the-soccer-mom now. But that's a post for another day...