Sorry I didn't post this before now. I sold the car last weekend. Prior to that, I had it sold to someone else, and we were in the car headed to the emissions test prior to going to the credit union he got the loan from, when the check engine light came on. I nearly had a heart attack. Of course it failed emissions. Turns out the car needed a new transmission. Since I really needed the $8750 I was going to get, the whole thing was really traumatic. The young man said if I had it fixed he still wanted it, because he fell in love with the car.

Two days later he changed his mind, so I couldn't get it fixed and had to try to get whatever I could for it. Ended up selling it to a nice couple who have a roadster that needed work, but the tranny's good. Husband was a mechanic, and said they thought they'd put them together and end up with a real nice car. They gave me $3300 for it. I felt good about the sale, but had to forget about getting so much less and call it good. Every time I looked at it, I thought of dad. We bonded over cars, and as his last one, which he kept longer than any of his others, it's forever going to be associated with him, for me. I needed to move on, because I felt stuck and unable to process my grief.

Beginning with a Sunbeam Tiger when I was six years old, dad always drove cool cars. There was a 280Z, I think, beautiful sand color, a cherry red BMW, a maroon Porsche, a white Eagle Talon, and a black Supra which he let me learn to drive a standard in. My favorite was my first car with any pizazz, a red Chrysler Conquest he was going to sell and somehow knew it suited me much more than the slow, drab blue boxy sedan I was driving. I discovered how much fun driving can actually be when I bought that Conquest. I discovered I'm actually a red sports car kind of person, whatever that means. And since Mitsubishi made the Conquest, it just seemed natural that after my second Conquest needed replacing after 17 years, I ended up with my current red 3000gt. Driving, for me and my dad, is and was a joy. I think when he no longer felt he could drive as safely and confidently, he lost a major source of contentment in life.

Neither I nor my brothers knew dad was having health issues, and I think his Crossfire had a leaking pan and it just slowly leaked out fluid over the course of a year, and he didn't know. Funny thing, I had been driving it now and then, and it still started and ran the day I said goodbye to it. By then, you had to drive it very carefully, but it never stranded me. Neither did my dad. I didn't even cry when the man took off the license plate and solemnly handed it to me with the words "this, you'll want to keep." I gave him a nice pair of black gloves and the file dad kept on the car, along with the accessories dad bought for it and its manuals. Dad would have liked these nice people. And despite the transmission issue, they bought a really special car that somehow was a perfect match for the quiet, neat, tidy, intelligent and honorable man who enjoyed driving it for so many years. He was the best dad a kid could have, and I often picture him smiling, standing beside his Crossfire.

I'm sorry I can't sell you dad's car, but I appreciate your interest, though the tranny issue may have been a problem, lol. I realize I've run on for too long here, but at times the words just want to flow, and I have to remember and pay my respects to dad, though in life he'd probably have been a bit embarrassed. He was a modest and humble guy. It seems fitting to share this with others possibly like me and Dad...hell, I even name my cars.

I hope you enjoy your Crossfire for many years to come... For me they'll always be special cars.