Harvey

Sometimes I lose perspective. It is so easy to get embroiled in the present, and the storm und drang of the RIGHT NOW and HOW THINGS ARE, that I forget to stand back and see the big picture or look at everything from a different angle. (I need to write more often.)

What prompted this foray into my somewhat warped personality and ways of dealing with life was the fact that we drove our seven-year-old Jeep to Providence last weekend to give to our daughter and her family as a replacement for their even-older Honda. The Jeep is still in good shape, had better tires and about half the mileage of the Honda, and we were thinking about replacing it anyway, so it all seemed like a good idea.

That should have been the end of it: drive, deliver, do the paperwork. But, after we'd turned it over, in the process of installing the kids' carseats in the back, Kay and Paul and Audrey were climbing in and around the car, and pointing things out to each other...The height would make it easier to change a diaper in the back, and also make it easier to load and unload. Audrey could stand on the back seat and see what was going on while all that was happening. The extendable cover on the back storage space would be nice to hide purchases (and provide a hiding place for Audrey.) There was an outlet in back where Audrey's DVD player could be plugged in for trips. The V6 engine might allow Paul to pull a trailer for shows. A myriad of possibilities that we had never seen or considered. "And," Audrey asked,  "is the Jeep a boy or a girl and what is its name?" I'm not sure I've ever named a car or thought about its gender.

I boarded my flight home with a somewhat bemused smile. The Jeep was embarking on a new life, appreciated in different ways for entirely different reasons: it was like sending a child off to school on his/her own. Not mine anymore--at least not ONLY mine. But other people would see the value, the positive (and I guess, the negative) aspects, where before, they were reserved for me alone.

This isn't only about a used car, of course. There are multitudes of events and experiences that I miss because I am so enamored of my own blindered viewpoint. Maybe I should expand my sight range on other things as well. Who knows what hidden bonuses I might find?

I wish I had a photo of the Jeep to paste right here. He would remind me of that. Maybe his name is Elwood--like the Jimmy Stewart character who saw something no one else could see: a giant rabbit named Harvey.