Thursday, March 15, 2012

I may not be writing much here...

... but if you're missing me, I am writing over at my Mormon women's history blog. Come on over and read about Esther Peterson, Amanda Barnes Smith, and other fun women this month (Algie Ballif and Paula Hawkins are written and waiting for their turn, and I have a few more in draft form).

Wednesday, March 7, 2012


It shouldn’t come as a surprise to me that I’m no longer a teenager. I have a graduate degree, two beautiful children, and a mortgage. But I’m starting to feel old. It isn’t because my 10 year reunion is behind me. It’s because my car is getting older.

Have you met my car? His name is Dominic, and he’s a green 97 civic. He’s the best car in the world. He joined me on my journey cross country to start college at BYU, and has been with me ever since. This car accompanied me through my transition into young adulthood. He joined me when I got into mischief with my friends. He came with me on the vast majority of my dates, and I was sitting in his seats when Rob talked me out of breaking up with before I went home to save money for a mission. He accompanied me to the temple for my wedding, and dropped me off at the airport for my honeymoon. Rob and I drove Dominic on numerous road trips to national parks in Utah where we bonded as a married couple, and drove him cross country to embark on grad schools and internships. We took him to the hospital for the births of my children. He's been a part in some way or another of most of the big events in my life. And now he's starting to age.

Logically, it won’t be too long before we hit the point where it will cost more to keep him running than to make a car payment on a modest used car. When the transmission goes, we’ll be there. This really depresses me. I know it makes more sense, but in my mind, my car’s passing will symbolize the transition from “young adult” to just plain “adult” because my young adult milestones were connected to that car. I don’t have any problems intellectually with leaving my twenties. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and stand by the choices I’ve made. I’m right where I’d hoped I would be, doing what I’d hoped I’d be doing. But let’s face it – I’m already a lot duller than I was when I was 20. Plain old adult Erin is a lot happier, kinder, and intelligent than young adult Erin. But young adult Erin was a lot more fun and spontaneous, and the eventuality of losing my young adult car makes me feel like I’m losing that part of myself.

Good thing I’ll have new memories to make in the new car whenever that transition comes. I’ll use it to drop my kids off at school, bond as a family when we go on road trips, and drive to new employment or community opportunities when that phase of my life hits. That should make me feel a little better, right?