Dawn Nahorniak Photography

Are there material things in your life that hold such meaning that you protect them with an unhealthy vengeance?  I do.  There is a ring that I’ve once hyperventilated over not being able to find.  There is the Bible that is now tattered that, while reading at my dining room table, I was horrified to realize that I really didn’t know Jesus or who I really was.  There are cards and letters, most notably from my mom and dad while I was away at college.

And then there is this van.  This doggone van.  The van that safely carried my babies around town.  The van in which I’ve laughed with my beloved.  The van that has ice cream stains smeared into the seats and gold fish crushed into the floor boards.  The van that hid many a moldy milk-filled sippy cup.

The van.  I’m not witty enough to have named my van.  But if I had, I may have named her Betty.  Because Betty is a safe name.  Betty is a good friend who never lets you down.  Betty will always be there, smiling - even when you are crying.  Betty loves your children and your children love her back.

Wowzer, I really am nuts.

The van sat in our driveway, unable to move for over a year.  She sat there and I looked at her through my dining room window.  She sat there in the snow and then through the rain.  She just sat there looking so sad.  But I just couldn’t let her go.  ”Maybe we should fix her”, I would say to the hot, hot, hottie.  ”Honey”, he’d say right back, “we have two vehicles that work very well”.  Drats!  I hate it when that happens.

And then came along a man.  A man who wanted to fix the van and use her.  ”No!  No!”, I said.  ”He cannot have my van.  No way.”  I was adamant.  No man, woman or child was taking my van.  No.  Sorry.

Truthfully, I wasn’t sorry.  Not one bit.  Man, you  cannot take it.  No.

As I sat there and watched her, I wondered why I was so attached to her. And then I realized that being a sentimental sap does not give me the right to hold things so closely.  She has nothing left to offer us.  I was convicted.  So one day back in June, the man came and took her.  I hear he rides her all around town now.

Is it wrong that I have tears in my eyes while I type this?  Go ahead, you can be honest.

Before the man came and took her that early June morning, I aroused my girls from their deep slumber to say goodbye.  Goodbye van.  We will miss you.  But don’t worry, we will be ok.  We have lots of good memories of you.  Be good to your new man.

A few months ago, I received a new pottery barn catalog in the mail.  This is always quite dangerous for me.  Let me rephrase that.  It’s always very dangerous for my sweet husband.  As I look through the catalog, I am always disheartened at the cost of the pretty things.  And then I remember that my husband is a master carpenter.

I usually cut the pretty pictures out and ask if he can make this or that.  This time I really wanted a rustic table for the back patio.  One that we could enjoy nice dinners on as a family.  His version of the $1299.00 table is more beautiful and made with much more love, I’m certain.  And the best part is this:  it was a fraction of the cost.