In the last six months my household has gone from 7 people to 3 people - and two of those three are only with me part time. Most of the time it's just me. Such an odd feeling after the busyness of 7 - and one with round the clock care. That change has had me looking at specific alterations that would help me feel better. One of which has been my transportation.
You see, for the last two years I've driven a 7 passenger van. A mom car. It has been ideal for long trips with the entire family (plus bags). Great gas mileage. But, when it's just me going to a business meeting I hear my thoughts echoing about the cabin - it feels so empty. Like an armoured car going to and from the banks but never carrying money. Why the armoured car?
A month ago I began looking for a smaller car. Something that would be great around town. Something that would be funner to drive than my mom van.
What caught my eye was a yellow XTERRA. Four wheel drive, a rack on top, chunky tires and smelled of adventure. I could not stop thinking about it. It was used but in great shape, price was right, and wow! It put a big grin on my face - lots of teeth showing! Fit two comfortably in back, great stereo, and I could just picture the endless possibilities - bikes on the back, tent and camping gear on top, the dog in the back . . . my adrenaline was peaking. It was a rush just thinking about it.
Until the survivor's guilt kicked in. What would people on the outside think? Here I show up in a perky yellow 4x4 with a big smile on my face . . . having so much fun . . . too much fun probably for a widow. Shouldn't I wear black for the next year and hang my head low? Even though the money was from a car accident two years ago and I've been a frugal shopper . . . would people assume I was being foolish buying a car just for me - just because the van makes me feel old?
So . . . I didn't buy the XTERRA. I let it be purchased by someone else. I stayed with the van and for about two weeks drove around with my tail between my legs and under my breath whispering to myself . . . I should be sensible. I should just not do anything silly or crazy for the next 7 months - just be steady. Not draw attention. Be mature.
Gosh that so goes against my butterfly nature. I began to feel claustraphobic. A week ago I purposely scouted out another bright yellow, chunky tires, rack on top, four wheel drive XTERRA that said "Party Waiting To Happen" all over it. And I bought it. The whole way home I kicked my heels to myself with the CD player blaring - so proud that I gave myself room to be silly and crazy and happy again. I have to give myself permission to feel joy and giddyness.
Passion is so underated. It is life. Sometimes I think honoring Paul's death means being sad and melancholy over his memory, his pain and his loss. Trust me, those moments hit me in the grocery store when I least expect it and I feel like I can't stand anymore - feel like I can't hold down breakfast. There is plenty of being sad. But, if I know Paul, and I believe that I do, he would want me driving the brightest happiest perkiest chunkiest adventurous funnest vehicle I could. It makes me feel years younger. Perhaps it's my Cobra like Paul had his.
One of the best lessons Paul taught me - chase yellow!!!!!! Passion is life. Give yourself permission to feel the joy - chase your dreams - chase your passion - and soak it up til your heart overflows with it. Passion is life.
Baby, put your yellow on!!!