A fond farewell

Right here in the throes of your busy life, Dear Reader, I humbly ask you today to pause for a moment of reverential contemplation as we reflect on the immortal words of our Beloved Dill Pickle (undoubtedly an intimate companion of Mr. Dickens): “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.”

The Pickle was born in 2000, grew up in a variety of homes, and was adopted into our family in mid-2015, a fee of $500 having changed hands in that transaction. The Pickle served Andrew well for over a year, transporting him from one location to another, if not in high style or extreme comfort, at least in a modicum of reliability.

The Pickle was proud as a peacock to have been outfitted with classy covers for both its seats and steering wheel in December, 2015, and while its cosmetic features did leave something to be desired and it did burn (leak?) oil at an impressive rate and its AC stubbornly refused for any reason to blow cold air, the Pickle did have an exceptional security system in that its doors could not be opened from the outside unless one knew how to apply the secret release code.

Andrew put 14,000 miles on the Dill Pickle over the past 14 months, but on September 2, 2016, he drove the Pickle for the last time. He (the Pickle) was making some odd noises and “felt funny,” causing Andrew significant concern. When he called me asking what to do, I told him to drive it straight to our mechanic, who later told me he was surprised the car had even made it to his shop. It arrived there sporting two shredding front tires, a damaged strut, and a broken axle; the right front wheel was in danger of falling off. Our mechanic said his conscience would not allow him to let the Pickle leave his lot unless it were repaired ($1200) or towed.

With tears of sorrow and heartfelt thanks to God for Andrew’s protection and safety, we unloaded all of his personal possessions from his cherished Pickle and went home.

Hearing the news of the Pickle’s demise while he was away on a mission trip, Scott agreed that the best thing to do would be to place the Pickle for adoption with our mechanic, who would then see to its being taken to a far, far better place. Papers for the Pickle’s final arrangements could not be signed until Scott’s return, and when he did return, Scott – who is known far and wide for turning challenging situations into profit – received from a wise friend the idea of selling the Pickle on craigslist.

And this he did today, for $500.  = )

So, while we are all sad to see the Dill Pickle go, we are all thankful that even in its passing, it continues to be a blessing to our family.

Yes, good has been done here.

The Pickle exits the scene. Andrew smiles, but, still feeling an emotional attachment for the Pickle, calls out “Take care, O my Pickle. Take care, O my Pickle. Take care, take care, don’t dare not care, take care, no air, no fair, take care, take care, O my Pickle.”

The end!

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1 Response to “A fond farewell”


  1. 1 Scott October 2, 2016 at 10:03 pm

    So funny! You’ve got to write a book!


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