Splendour in the Grass

What though the radiance

which was once so bright

Be now for ever taken from my sight,

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendour in the grass,

of glory in the flower,

We will grieve not, rather find

Strength in what remains behind;

In the primal sympathy

Which having been must ever be;

In the soothing thoughts that spring

Out of human suffering;

In the faith that looks through death,

In years that bring the philosophic mind.

-William Wordsworth

Ah, Wordsworth...how can I qualify your talent? Your words are amazing and your sentiments timeless. Your ability to capture the emotion and feeling of a moment is unequaled, and for that I love your work. "Splendour in the Grass" is a lasting favorite of mine.

But why, dear readers, did I choose this poem? One praising the virtue of appreciating a moment and not regretting what has come to pass?

Because I am about to say good-bye forever to a very dear friend. One that has been with me for years and seen me through good times and bad. One that has never let me down and has given me countless good memories. One that helped me in grad school and then helped me start my career.

Alas, to mark this sad, sad parting, I have written a good-bye letter that I would like to share with you all to my friend:

Dear 1988 Chevy S-10,

I will miss you so much. I hated you when we first met in 2004. I'm not sure how my grandfather had bought so simple a vehicle. I hated you for not having air-conditioning, power brakes, power steering, or an FM radio. But most of all, you were a manual, and I, a devotee of automatic.

But we came together you and I, like a pegasus. Through hours at the Cub Foods parking lot and in the neighborhood, I learned how to lift the clutch and not kill the engine. I learned that taking off in 3rd was not necessarily a good idea - especially with the emergency brake on. And I learned that you and I could get along no matter our differences.

You came with me to Bloomington, when I only barely knew how to drive you. Parallel parking brought some frustration and inappropriate language, but you always kept going. You taught me that jumper cables can be a girl's best friend and that 4 people can fit on a bench seat. You hauled furniture, wine glasses, people, a piano, theater sets, and helped me bring home a brand-new kitty.

You travelled well, and when it was time to move to Texas, you were game. You lasted 17 hours of father-daughter bonding and got us safely the width of the United States. I learned quickly that I missed air-conditioning in a state where humidity is the most common pasttime. You put up with crazy Houston police and multiple trips to the opera. You withstood the taunts of the snobby security card who said you weren't good enough to park in front of the upscale apartment building.

You went with me to DC and stood by me through the tears, anger, and disappointment. You made countless trips to Target and Goodwill and helped some great people move new places. You bonded with others as your battery was changed and a new radio installed and let me change all of your lights. You withstood snow, ice, and annoying neighbors.

Alas, dear one, I couldn't take you to Chicago. I will miss you and your great chrome shifter and "I (heart) Wood" sticker and your leopard print seats. Saying good-bye to you is like saying good-bye to a family member and you will always be my first car. You taught me the value of driving a manual and now I can never go back.

But most of all, I'll miss the times we had together and hope that your next owner loves you as much as I do.

Love,

Katy