2,012 miles for Life: Farewell, Anita (2005-2013)

I had a car and she was good. Anita was a gift from dad and Hannah. They both chipped in and Anita changed my life because having a car just does. I named her Anita because it's one of Hannah's nicknames and I never ever wanted to take for granted the fact that generosity is the reason I could serve God with my car.

2005. manual. Hyundai. 115,000 miles (I added 70,000 of them). Faithful.

And then wrecked her in a "reckless driving" incident (so says the policeman) on I-81 with my friend Abby. I'm alive and still won't quite know how I did it because wrecks just happen like that. If I'd had it my way, I'd have wrecked her on I-95 where she'd collected so many good miles but she had to die sometime, right? I mean, at least I got to say goodbye.

What's so special about a tiny manual car that smells like mildew because you spilled coffee in it 500x? What's so special about a car that obnoxiously is a two-door and confuses back-seater passengers every time they wanna get in and out? What's so special about a manual that's CD player broke 2 days after acquiring it? What's so special about a car that forces you to use two hands all the time and has no cruise control? What's so special about Anita?

I guess it was the first time I drove to an abortion clinic to pray. I got to drive and not bike and it was such a huge blessing. I guess it was the time I drove Chloe to see an ultrasound of her baby from said clinic. I guess it was the time that my friend Gina bailed me out when Anita got towed and I saw what true friendship really is. I guess it was that time I drove from Roanoke to Virginia beach to run a big marathon with my friend Ehrin. I guess it's all those rides to church I was able to give underclassmen. I guess it was the trips home to see mom and dad in Orlando and coming back to college with Anita loaded to the brim with free groceries. I guess it was that time Katelyn and I hit a squirrel on our way out from Payne's Prairie. I guess it was that first time I drove myself to Publix and bought milk and didn't have to bike with it home. I guess it was that time I drove all the way to Pennsylvania up I-95 to spend a summer in the woods...

70,000 miles. Just me and car. Anita enabled.

What's so special about a hunk of metal? I guess it's what we choose to do with it.

Life goes on, God provides, we keep running, but there's just something special about inanimate objects that change our lives.

Farewell, Anita.