So now that you know I have a hard time letting go of things, that leads me right into today’s topic. A rather smooth Segue, wouldn’t you say? Here’s the story…

I’m a lot like my mom because she used to keep things she didn’t really need. That, I’m sad to say, has rubbed off on me. Now don’t get me wrong; I don’t hoard rubber bands or corks like Mom did. But to look in my garage behind cabinet doors, you’ll see an abundance of stuff I rarely use.

Does one really need 3 cans of WD-40?

I have tons of kitchen items collecting dust on top of the garage cabinets. Things like a Margarita machine, a crock pot and an ice cream maker. Can’t remember the last time I used them. Yet I continue to hold on to them. Just in case. You never know when I’ll get an inkling to make Rocky Road ice cream, right?

I’ve never used the coffee maker

Then there’s my paint cabinet. To glance inside, you’d think I’m about to paint my entire house. But I did that last year. So why do I still have so much paint in my cabinet? Again, just in case. What if I need to touch-up a nick in the wall? In my defense, I did bring a bunch of gallons to the recycle center recently. Yep, I’m purging. Proud of me?

Anyway, that brings me to my car. Or cars, as the case may be. I’ve had a handful of vehicles since I started driving 47 years ago. (Wow, has it really been that long?) Anyway, as you can imagine, I also have trouble letting go of cars. Big time. They have sentimental value, especially when the driver seat is ripped and the carpet stained.

Hey, those rips have memories attached (getting in and out of the car thousands of times) and so do the stains (hitting one too many bumps while sipping caramel macchiato’s). I’ve had an array of vehicles over the years but the one I’ve held on to the longest is my sweet little BMW convertible.

I still have that car but since it’s 15 now, annoying little things are happening. Like the car door won’t open when I push the key button anymore. I actually have to stick the key in the door; when I’m driving, there’s an annoying high pitched buzz behind the gas pedal; there’s a slow leak in the hydraulics so sometimes I can’t put the top down.

That’s when I decided I needed another BMW, a burgundy one this time. Vermilion, to be exact. Then last May I happened to drive by a dealership when I glanced over and there it was — my future car, nearly hidden among dozens of other vehicles. Meant to be, don’t you think?

So now I have 3 cars, counting my work SUV. But do I need 2 BMW’s, you ask? Actually, no. I really should get rid of my oldie but goodie. But it’s my just in case car for when out of town friends need a vehicle. Or someone’s old Chevy breaks down. Or their car is totaled. Or maybe even stolen.

Besides, you may have noticed we’re a throw away society and I for one refuse to contribute to that wasteful behavior. Sound convincing? Hope so, because that’s my excuse for holding on to things past their prime. Or simply holding on to things, period.

So anyway, just to be clear, I really do like my new BMW. But someday I’m going to love it (as soon as the driver’s seat is ripped and the carpet stained). And that, my friends, is when I’ll finally let go of my just in case car.

The day I bought my just in case car