A Letter to My Van.

Dear Vanna,

I'm a matter of months away from replacing you as my car for a 4th-generation F-Body, but I don't think I could work up to selling you. You've been too good and around for too long for that. It'd be strange looking out my window and not seeing your slab-sided self sitting in the street. Every stain in your carpet is from me or another family member, every scratch a reminder of what happened in the past, and every quirk something only my family knows how to remedy. Your sentimental value is too much to sell to someone to be converted into a work van, or worse, sent to a junk yard. I've insulted you in the past for being a junker, but you're so much more than that. You're a family member that is irreplaceable. You were my ride home from the hospital, my bus to Tee Ball games, and my ambulance when I broke my leg. You served us for 16 years, our longest yet, and for good reasons. Your paint may be chipping and your transmission failing, but you're still perfect in my eyes. I hope to have you around for at least another 16 years, and at this rate, I think it'll happen. Hopefully with a paint job somewhere in between. So thank you for being the best a car can be, which is more than a hunk of metal with some wheels, but a family member.