Black Betty

I’ve driven the same gray Blazer since I turned 16. Her name is Betty and I honestly consider her one of my best friends. We’ve been everywhere together - through everything together.
My first day with an official license I drove her to Grease auditions leading to a summer as Sandy in a community theater production. We went to Florida and back 3 times – once to actually live in the heat for a semester. I packed her up and moved to college – put down the back seat and piled people in to party in the woods – fell asleep in the back with my girlfriend when we felt unwelcome in our own home.
I’ve grown up with Betty. And, like anything that’s stood next to me through time, I’ve gone through some hardship with Betty.
She heard my heart-wrenching shrieks when my baby committed suicide – sat patiently next to me while I sobbed on cold pavement in a parking lot – carried my memories when I packed up an apartment full of belongings willed to me.
People judge her for her tattered appearance, but they don’t know what she’s been through. In a way – we’re one in the same… we’ll survive these endlessinbetweens until I bury her in my backyard.