Dear Mimas
I wasn’t sure the best way to apologize to you so I thought I would write you a letter. I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. You have been so faithful to me and I have not been all that good to you. Although we are each going our separate ways I will have fond memories of where we’ve been. You and I have driven over 45,000 miles and you never ever complained. You were a gift to me and I’ve been very thankful for the time we’ve shared together. I remember the time I almost lost your gas cap and wondered how you would continue…but fortunately we found it. I know that I did not change your oil as often as it should have been but you kept plugging along and never gave up on me. You drove me safely from Mahomet, Illinois to San Diego and several times to Colorado. Do you remember the time when we drove up Pikes Peak? Yeah, I wasn’t sure how you would do but you took the 14,100 feet like a pro…twice! We journey to Edisto Beach, South Carolina and then all the way to Key West, Florida. I’m sorry that I packed you so full in the move back to Canada. It wasn’t right. But you never complained. I will vividly remember traveling through the Canadian Rockies, stopping at Lake Louise, the Columbia Icefields and many other stops. Well…I’m sorry about the accident. I know that you did nothing wrong. The white van came out of no where. He was mostly at fault but I can’t deny the fact that I wasn’t thinking properly. I should have been paying more attention. I didn’t realize I was in the left hand turning lane. I thought the road was widening into two lanes. But it was early in the morning and the road marks were not visible. Mimas, thank you for keeping me safe and taking the brunt of the accident. I came away with no scrapes or bruises. You looked pitiful with your fluids spilled all over the street; lights broken to bits, pieces of metal and your license plate lying on the pavement. I’m sorry that I laughed at you too. I just couldn’t help it. I found the whole thing a bit humorous. I mean…I just finished importing you to Canada. I had just received your Alberta plates several days earlier and had paid for all the fees and repairs to make you fit for Canada. Perhaps you were not meant to change your citizenship. I’m sorry for trying to force my country on you. Some day, hopefully we will travel together again. I hope you don’t get taken to a derby where you would have a cruel death…but I hope that someone will take pity on you and repair you. Although your name is not the most flashiest name I hope you will still be proud of it and know that you will always be a moon of Saturn to me. No other car could ever replace you. Yes, I will probably drive another one, but I know that I will never forget you. I apologize for what I’ve done to you and hope that someday, somehow, you can forgive me.
Your driver and friend,
Barry
