Breaking up with the Swede

Almost 20 years ago I bought my first Volvo. It was a dark green sedan and I remember being impressed by the turning radius and a bit alarmed by the sensation prompted by the heated seats. I thought I had peed myself.  I loved the boxy shape of my “new” 740 and I felt confident that it was the safest vehicle I could buy for carting my growing family around.

Since that first Volvo, there have been four others. For the last 14 or 15 years, there have been wagons – perfect for kids, dogs and cargo. The car I currently drive has been a wonderful and reliable member of the family for almost 10 years giving me 100,000+ miles of trips around town and the northeast. I called it my princess car when I first bought it because it was so damn pretty and felt luxurious with its leather interior and a plethora of air bags. I’ve really loved it.

During all my years of Volvo owning I’ve been loyal to my mechanic and dealer. They’ve always treated me and my vehicles well and I consider them my friends. Yesterday I stopped in to have a minor repair done and confessed that our relationship was going to be different moving forward. I didn’t want to break up, but I needed a change, something different to take me in a new direction…a car that wasn’t Swedish.

Dave was great – he said he understood. He didn’t have a vehicle that suited me at the right price or with the features and technology I wanted, and he offered me advice about what to look for in my next car. When I told him what I was planning to test drive he called it a baby BMW which made me smile. My mechanic assured me that he could maintain my potential new car, something which really made me feel better. Change was good and it was going to be fine.

I was feeling more than a little sentimental about saying goodbye to my wagon and even considered keeping it instead of trading it in. The money wouldn’t have broken me and I’m already missing the cargo space we generally fill for our annual  Wellfleet vacation. But, I don’t want to maintain and insure two cars. I don’t even have a driveway. It would be silly.

Then, I remembered how thrilled I was with every single Volvo I’ve ever bought and I imagined a new owner of my well loved car. I pictured a new family being held safely in what has been a great car for my family and it made me happy and ready to let go. Time to begin a new chapter.

So – meet my new British friend!