Kicked In The Gut

Not really. It just feels like it. Today is just not a good day for me. It's sad to see "memories" go. It's even sadder when they disappear abruptly. No discussion. No chance to say anything. It's just plain sad. And I can't do anything about it. I found out today that my Dad's car was donated to charity. The license plate was removed and the people from Goodwill are coming in the morning to drive it away. So tonight, just after eleven o'clock when I knew "the people" would be asleep, I went over to my Dad's condo and with a spare set of keys, I opened the car door, sat in the drivers seat, rubbed my hands all over the steering wheel, patted the dash board, thought about some of the crazy cross country trips my Dad and I took and then I just sat there and cried. And I won't go near the property tomorrow. I just can't. I am a "beginnings and endings" person. I like to know when things begin and I like to know when things end. I can't stand it when people walk away from me without saying goodbye because I think maybe they are coming back, so I wait. And wait some more. So, with Dad's car (affectionately known as the Big Boat) I knew it needed to be sold but we were all waiting for guidance from the "boss". It never came. But I still waited. Like an obedient dog. And so a decision was made without any discussion . No forewarning. And now my stomach hurts. A kick in the gut. I'll get over this like I always do. But today was just not a good day for me. I'm real sad. The one glimmer of joy for me is knowing I swiped the dashboard compass Dad's car was so famous for. He thought every car should have a dashboard compass. And now it's mine. And the spare keys, too.