The last thing Bob said the week before he was moved from the local Peace Health Hospital, to OHSU in Portland, OR; was, “Pay Visa off, pay the car off: and put $2,500 aside for tires.”
He wanted to make sure I would be taken care of if things went as expected.
I didn’t want to think about that, but I quickly called Sophia – our Financial Advisor – and shifted the monies around like Bob asked me to do: then I held his hand, and said, “It’s done Babe; with money to spare.”
2½ weeks later, Bob was walking the golden streets of our Celestial Home.
Aside from missing Bob ...
I don’t miss the Visa Card – I never wanted it anyway, and I don’t need the high interest monthly bill.
I’m glad the Highlander is sitting in the carport – free and clear.
For 32
months I have guarded “the tire money”; feeling guilty every time I had to dip
into it when emergencies came up … and hastily building the balance back up
again to keep that $2,500 balance in savings for when it came time to replace
the tires.
The original tires have been on the Highlander since that September day in 2017 we drove it home, off the showroom floor at Dick Hanna’s in Kelso. That was 3 years ago (7 days away from 4 years, this year) – by my estimation, a pretty good run for tires on any vehicle.
The original tires have been in constant motion pretty much all of the time the vehicle has been in our/my hands. Since Bob went Home 32 months ago, I’ve rarely been home; and the rubber on the tires has literally been run off as I burned up the roadways from the time, I get up every morning – until the time I drop into bed every night.
One tire had a nail pulled out of it in 2018, and was patched: the patch held, and I had it checked every month before I went on 8- to 10-hour adventures. I remember driving that hell road in the Gifford Pinchot National Park, last August, and hoping and praying the tire would hold and get me back home safely: it did 😊
But I didn’t slow down.
I kept burning up the roads … and burning rubber: not in a drag race way, but the tires were well used every day, every week, every month between WA & OR – with very few stay-at-home-days in between.
The last loooong drive I took this year, was to Lincoln City in June; I had the tires checked at Dick Hanna’s local Maintenance Shop before and after the trip … and was assured “the tires were checked and rotated, Mrs. Hargand and everything looks fine; there’s nothing to be concerned about, but the tires will need to be replaced before Winter. Go, enjoy your drives without worry.”
I deviated, and took an alternate route home (a road I had never been on before – not even with Bob) … it was paved; but it was also in the middle of nowhere for miles, and miles, and miles. I shudder to think what might have happened if the tire had blown on that {safe} road.
Mind you … I TELL THE CREW EVERYTIME I HAVE THE CAR CHECKED that, “I drive a lot; I’m rarely home – I need to know the tires will hold up, and get me back safely. There’s just me now – and I don’t have the {ear} Bob had when it comes to car ‘isms.”
Maybe the crew doesn’t understand “mountain roads”: as in, rough and gravelly; pitted maintenance (if there even is any), and pot holes big enough to swallow the Highlander with very narrow to no shoulders at all to maneuver around those rugged-edged landmines.
Maybe the crew thinks paved roads are safer than dirt roads; maybe they aren’t aware that backcountry roads can be just as {ify} as dirt roads because though they aren’t rough … they are off the beaten track and the traffic is very light: if I broke down on one of those paved backcountry roads, I’d be in just as much of a pickle as I was last night.
Maybe they figure that because of my age, I consider a slight elevation in hillsides ‘mountain roads’. They don’t really know me, after all, beyond the friendly chit-chat between car maintenance appointments.
I don’t know what they actually thought … but I do know that I don’t think anyone took my statements that “I spend a lot of time in the mountains, and on light traveled roads” seriously.
And maybe, because I am not a sedate little old lady like most people my age tend to become; and maybe because I am ignorant in things Bob would have instinctively known and understood about vehicles … I should have pushed to have the tires replaced in June to avoid what happened last night.
At any rate – what’s done is done.
And honestly, I am surprised the tires held up as long as they did.
And I am thankful the tire shredded itself when I was moving in a slomo mode, instead of when I was passing someone on the highway!
I didn’t fall into bed until after 4 AM: I think I maybe had 4 hours sleep before I shook myself alert, called Les Schwab’s on Ocean Beach, and drove the car into town to have the tires replaced this afternoon.
The last thing on Bob’s mind when he was tying up loose ends for me as his life was fading, got done this afternoon; with money to spare.
But the washing of Baby will have to wait until tomorrow: I’m beat.
I can’t maintain strength anymore with only 4 hours sleep under my belt.
I hate to say this, but, I think
I’m getting old 😉
No comments:
Post a Comment