(Work went sideways today and into this evening. Don’t know if I will finish the rest of this tonight, so here is the in between.)
Kermit the 2nd went into service about a month after the accident, which at that time was about a month prior to the wedding we were about to host. We were already married, but were finally getting around to having the big celebration, and if you have ever hosted a wedding, you can understand that having a colossal car accident which requires replacing the car via car insurance claims and attorneys and a car dealer two months before you are inundated with family and guests and a weekend filled with highly coordinated events and logistics, well, yeah, it was a bit of added stress that I did not need. (Oh, and my caterer died. Literally dropped dead and I just happened to read his OBITUARY in the LA Times while drinking my morning tea a short time before the accident. Again, pay attention to the signs people!! The answers are always there. )
Annnnyhoodle, getting my new Kermit was a welcome calm in the chaos and we bonded instantly. One of the only places I ever felt safe emotionally was during my drive time. Even if I was headed home, the place where all the hurt and yet unknown dramas were waiting for me, I would float along in my big steel cage on wheels signing songs with all the windows down like I had not a care in the world.
Right at the very height of our relationship’s demise, he took my car to Utah for a ski vacation. The ski vacation of course that we took together every year, but he announced he was going alone and he took my car since it was four-wheel drive. I did not like this one bit. Not only was I pretty well wrecked at that point because we had not yet made The Decision (even though we both knew it was coming and frankly, had not figured out how to get there sooner), all I wanted to do was get in MY car and drive drive drive away to get my head cleared. When he came back, there was a big white chunky stain on the driver’s side floor mat. It was from road salt that he must have tracked into the car on his boots from the snowy roads. Even months after we split I used to sit and look at that stain and seethe that he didn’t place the all-weather mats properly, and that he didn’t clack his boots together to get off the excess salted snow and so every time I looked at that damn stain I thought, “What kind of a jerk leaves his wife he’s about to divorce alone for two weeks but takes HER car to do it?” An asshole that’s who.
When he got back, he moved out. Double good news: I was going to be freed from the mismatch that had temporarily turned me into a shadow of myself, AND I got to keep my car. It was on to the next part of the journey for me and Kermit.