My favorite book series that I have ever read is The No. One Ladies’ Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith. This charming series features a traditionally built lady who lives in Botswana. She is ready to begin life over and starts a detective agency. Mma Ramotswe has no credentials for being a detective, but she is wise and kind and helpful. Those three qualities along with her hiring of a quirky woman who boasts 97 percent on her graduation tests from a secretarial school, are all that is needed for this agency to take root.

From the very first book, the love of these characters and their home in Botswana also took root in me. Mma Ramotswe lives a quiet life, and she is endearing and traditional of all things Botswana. She drives a little white van, which she loves dearly and which her mechanic husband manages to hold together in response to her repeated protests when he suggests she buy a new vehicle. I just finished the 25^th book in the series, and that little white van is still going.

I drive a little white car – not a van but an SUV. I remember back in 2014 when Bob suggested that it was time to look for a new car for me. At that time, I drove a 2002 white Ford Explorer. I loved that car because it had a third row, and I had space to corral grandchildren in it. Alas, he talked me into upgrading it to a 2014 Ford Escape.

This car had so many new features. It even would parallel park on its own (pretty much – I had to pull up near the parking spot correctly and man the brake). It also had heated seats, which was a new thing for me that I even took advantage of down here in Florida. The best feature was the ability to remotely start the car so the air conditioning could engage before we opened the door on a hot day and not be knocked over by the heat whooshing out the doors. I loved this car and never looked back on my former Ford.

When Bob and I recently began a conversation about upgrading my car, I was all in. Actually, it was my idea. We have several family members that would love a good used car that’s lived in a garage and was driven by a grandmother. That’s good marketing, but I had my sights on our 19-year-old granddaughter who wants to go back to college. Sometimes God lays out a direction so clearly. I love it when that happens.

I’ll cut through the details here. Ella is now the owner of my sweet ride, and I am driving something that is altogether different from my first car – a 1974 Toyota Celica. If I had thought about this car back then, I could have written sci-fi books. It is that different. My standard-shift Toyota didn’t even have AC as a standard feature. My new Kia Sportage has air-conditioned seats. And that’s not evening mentioning all the cameras around it. It’s like having paparazzi monitoring my every move. Honestly, it’s a little intimidating, but I’ll adjust.

The night before my Escape went to Ella, I was a little anxious and didn’t sleep well. It took me a minute to figure out that I was sad to say goodbye to my faithful Ford. When I finally figured that out, my first thought was – that’s ridiculous. My next thought – but not unexpected.

Goodbye, old friend.

The first night that the car was in Ella’s possession, I dreamt about Ella driving my little white car and hitting a deer. Oh dear! What’s wrong with me? Emotional about a car? As it turns out, yes.

Then I thought about Mma Ramotswe. I know in the future there will be a book written about her having to replace her little white van. When I read that book, I know that I will understand her inner turmoil and the sadness of losing a four-cylinder friend. There will be no judgement from me, and I will shed a tear with her as she sends it off into the sunset.