Camry

 Fifteen years ago (2005), the parents bid our old grey Mitubishi Magna farewell and bought a bright red Toyota Camry, registration number plate 380 JDA. From memory, I think the old Mitubishi Magna’s registration number plate was 370 CIE. Why red? Well, I’ve heard that apparently, red cars go faster. XD

 

I have fond recollections of that red Camry; I actually have the memory of driving him to work (my short-lived career as a Woolies checkout chic at the Sunnybank Hills Woolworths before the cruel and unfaithful God totally destroyed my life with the disabling brain injury back in 2007)! I remembered driving him somewhere along Gowan Rd, but have totally forgotten where I parked. XD

However, my dearest dad has always hankered after a 4WD, and so, several years later, the parents bought a baby 4WD, a Subaru Forrester.

Once the light grey Forrester joined our family, mother took to driving him much more regularly than the Camry, explaining that the Forrester’s smaller size compared to the Camry made it easier to drive and park. Instead, she only drove the Camry on the two mornings she went to work for half a day, Thursday and Saturday.

 

Nowadays, post disabling brain injury, I have carers/life coaches/support workers/whatever they’re called nows to take me to Toastmasters, the Garden City library (for Writers Group before the coronavirus pandemic moved our meetings online), fortnightly shopping trips to Sunnybank Hills Shoppingtown and monthly book club trips at the Logan North library. Originally, they drove their own car and mother paid them mileage back (don’t know how much per km she paid) but when mother found out they could drive our car and she wouldn’t have to pay them mileage back she let the carer drive the Camry while she drove the 4WD herself.

 

At the end of last year, one carer had just finished her shift with me, having taken me to the library for GCCW, somewhere with HK-style milk tea for lunch and back home for a shower. When she left, another carer had arrived to take me to the Logan North library for book club. She’d just turned left out of Gaskell St. down into Underwood Rd. when BUMP! The car lining up behind us to turn next hadn’t checked to see we’d fully cleared the turn, gone speeding out right after my carer had turned and rear-ended us! My carer admits to me later that the crunch had scared the wits out of her but all kudos goes to her; at that moment after the initial bumping she had just calmly steered the car to the side of the road and once it’d slowed and come to a complete stop, switched the ignition off. I’d immediately leaned forward and hit the hazard lights before telling my carer I’m alright and was she alright too? Luckily, since we were both wearing seatbelts and since she’d just turned from the intersection (meaning she hadn’t been going too fast) after coming to a complete stop she was fine also; after checking there wasn’t any oncoming traffic she’d exited the car and gone to speak with my other carer, the one who’d just left and rear ended us. Whilst waiting in the car, I’d rung mother to let her know what had happened; after I hung up I’d rung dearest dad also, who said he’d check the car after I got home from book club that night.

Once we arrive at the library, I climb out of the passenger seat of the Camry and walk awkwardly around to the back to see if he had been damaged by the bump.

Oh dear … the poor Camry had a very bruised right bum! Since I have absolutely zero knowledge about cars I don’t even know how to correctly describe it, but the very rear of the car had been squashed in? Looked painful, anyhow. Ouch!

After book club, Kim tootles me home. Mother ushers me back into the house while dad inspects the Camry. A little while later, when we’re sharing dinner together, dad’s throwing around scary words like ‘total loss’. I ask him, ‘Dad, I’m sure having a very bruised bum would hurt like hell but surely it’s not a death sentence, right?’

Dad explains that since we’ve had the Camry since 2005, the cost of fixing him might be more expensive than just buying a new car, hence the total loss. I was sad, because like I said earlier, I actually have the memory of driving him to work at the Sunnybank Hills Woolies and if this was his end, I’d really miss him!

To that end, I asked mother one afternoon could she please take a photo of me sitting in the red Camry with both hands holding onto the steering wheel, because if the poor Camry was really going to his demise when she took him to Toyota for his assessment, I wanted one final photo with him. Thanks muchly to mother who agrees; climbing into the driver’s seat was awkward (my functioning right side means I prefer to get into the car from the passenger side) but hey, I managed.

You can imagine my joy and relief when mother gets back home and reports that we can get the Camry back coz insurance will fix his bum! (Okay, that sentence just sounds weird. XD) But we’d get the Camry back sparkly new, hoorah, and hopefully he’d get driven for many more years! (Again, my absolute ignorance of cars is showing when I confess that I have absolutely no idea how long cars usually last XD)

Dad was hilarious; over dinner the night after the Camry returned home, he randomly asked me, ‘Hey, what’s getting a new bum called?’

Me: ‘Huh?”’

Dad, laughing. ‘You know, a new bum. Like when celebrities go and get cosmetic surgery to get a new bum. What’s that called?’

I join in the laughter, teaching him, ‘Oh, buttlift. The Camry just got a bumlift.’

So the Camry rejoined our family. Mother drove him to work for her two mornings at the GPs, and carers drove him when taking me to appointments/events.

We’d all hoped the Camry had been given a second chance at life and would remain in our family for many more years to come.

Alas, however, that was not the case …

 

Partway through this year, my UQ physio teacher started me on this intensive block of physio, where instead of attending once a week for one hour, I attend thrice a week for four hours. Wednesday was a double whammy: two straight hours of physio, from 9am till 11am. That meant the carer would come at 8:15am to drive me to UQ. In the afternoon, trips to UQ only took like twenty-five minutes but 9am appointments meant I’d most likely get stuck in peak hour traffic so definitely leave by 8:15am.

That fateful morning, when Hannah starts driving me to UQ, for some reason she doesn’t listen to her GPS who says to turn right at the top of Alan Cresc. into Gaskell St. and turns left instead. That’s alright; the GPS is a smart fella and immediately readjusts her route, telling Hannah to turn right into Underwood Rd. next instead. The car was fully stopped at the intersection; after Hannah checks one side (the left) she pulls out slowly to turn into Underwood Rd. Suddenly, BLAM! We get T-boned! Hannah shrieks on impact; as the Camry is smashed across the lanes my immediate thought reaction’s “Oh, sh*t (excuse my French; in my defence I didn’t react outwardly when the car was hit but this was what I truly thought XD); the next car that comes zooming up Underwood Rd. will hit me, coz I’m sitting in the death seat … gosh, I hope it’s quick and won’t hurt … mother, please look after my dearest dad for me after I’m gone, okay? You’ll be fine without me; you’ll prolly chuck a party considering how you’re always bitching at me that because you haveta drive me to appointments and such, you don’t have a social life anymore but I’ve always been a daddy’s girl and dad might miss me some, you know? Please be nice to my dearest dad after I’m gone!

In the next second, the Camry has jerked to a halt on the side of the road, beyond the moving lanes of traffic, and I realise that somehow, I’m still alive. Still, no time to talk about that now; I immediately lean forward, hit the hazard lights on and urgently tell Hannah, ‘I’m uninjured. Are you okay too or do I call the ambulance for you straightaway?’

Poor Hannah just burst straight into tears. ‘It’s all my fault!’ She wailed. ‘I forgot to check both ways!’

‘NO!’ I replied rather forcefully; I needed to find out whether Hannah had been injured or not! ‘Tell me NOW: are you alright or do I call the ambulance right away?’

In between sobs, Hannah gasps that she’s fine. In that case, no time to worry about her. Reaching for my mobile, I immediately ring home. When mother answers, I speak urgently. ‘Mum, we’re fine,’ I begin (didn’t want to freak her out too badly, see. XD) ‘But Hannah and I just got T-boned at Gaskell St. and Underwood Rd. You’d better get out here right now.’ Poor mother must’ve been shocked; she double-checked to make sure that we were both okay before saying she’d come out immediately.

Once I hung up, I turned around and touched a still bawling Hannah’s shoulder gently. ‘Hey, we need to let CODA (the organisation that provides me with carers) know what just happened,’ I say calmly. ‘Will you ring CODA or may I?’ Poor Hannah doesn’t stop wailing; I take that to mean that I should ring. Dialling their usual number, when their answering machine kicks in and says office hours are 9am till 5pm do I realise that since it’s only just after 8:15am they wouldn’t have opened yet! Luckily I remember their on-call emergency number and immediately tried dialling that next; you cannot believe *how relieved* I was when somebody answered! I mean, what would I have said if I’d been directed to leave a message? ‘Um, hi, good morning, it’s Emily Chan here. Um, Hannah and I just got T-boned at the intersection of Gaskell St. and Underwood Rd; could someone please come save us? K, thanks bye.’ XD

As with mother, when Davina answered I immediately reassured her that Hannah and I were fine, but we just got T-boned at the intersection of Underwood Rd. and Gaskell St.; you can probably hear poor Hannah bawling in the background… Huge thanks to Davina who remained so calm and didn’t dissolve into panic/lose her head/anything; after double-checking (just like mother XD) that we were both okay, she asked to speak to Hannah. I shook a still wailing Hannah gently on the shoulder and told her, ‘Hannah. Hey, it’s gonna be alright. I’ve rung CODA and Davina wants to talk to you. It’s gonna be okay. Take my phone and talk to Davina.’

As Hannah does so, a uniformed woman rushes up to my car door. She says, ‘I’m a doctor. I just finished the overnight shift and was driving home when I saw the collision, and I pulled over right away to see if you needed any help.’ I sincerely thank her, adding that we were both physically fine but that Hannah might be stuck in the car coz the other car that had T-boned us had hit near her car door. By then, the driver of the car that had T-boned us had also come over to check that we were unharmed. Having finished the call to Davina, Hannah passed my mobile back to me, but when the driver asked were we both okay, poor Hannah burst into tears again, saying the accident was all her fault coz she’d forgotten to look both ways before turning. Before she could have another meltdown again, I quickly entered the conversation, explaining that I’ve got a physical disability and Hannah’s my carer who’s driving me to physio this morning. Then I add could someone please call emergency services? We’re both fine but Hannah may be stuck in her seat because your car T-boned ours like where her car door is. The nearly bald headed man that had T-boned us replied yeah my wife’s calling now so don’t worry, help will arrive soon. He was actually very nice; since Hannah’s car door had been jammed shut by the impact of his car hitting near her door, he opened the rear driver seat door, reached around and just patted her shoulder until emergency services arrived, lights flashing and sirens wailing. The firies appear first; seeing the damage done to Hannah’s car door and the fact that she’s stuck in her seat coz she can’t open the door prompts the firemen to discuss the need to cut the door open to free Hannah. I’m like oh noes, if you cut open the car door it’s a goner for sure! Not that I say anything out aloud, obviously. XD

The ambulance arrives hot on the heels of the fire truck, again, sirens blazing and lights flashing. When the ambo approaches my open car door, I tell the Asian male paramedic that we’re both uninjured but that Hannah’s stuck in her car seat. He walks around to her side and confirms that with her through the open car window while he tries to pull the car door open. Yup, she’s definitely stuck.

The smart paramedic then comes up with the idea to get Hannah to climb from the driver’s seat into the backseat and exit that way! While she’s in the process of doing that, he looks at me. ‘Stay there,’ he instructs. ‘I’ll come back for you next.’ Not that I’m in any physical condition to just open my car door and waltz away; I have a brain injury and am unfortunately extremely disabled, remember??

When the paramedic returns, he beckons me out. Before I manoeuvre myself out of the Camry, I explain to him that I’ve got a pre-existing brain injury that’s totally unrelated to what just happened and that while I can walk some, I’m just terribly bad at it.

The ambo directs me towards a waiting stretcher, where he bids me lie down onto it. Me: ahh, aren’t I supposed to walk and climb into the ambulance just like how Hannah’s about to do in front of us? You can see I can walk some, and if mother sees me getting a free ride when I could be walking like everyone else is, she’ll bite my head off. The ambo replies yes, but since you walk slowly because of your brain injury and traffic’s already building up around where the traffic incident occurred, it’s best if you just lie down and we clear the crash site quickly.

Fair enough. I clamber awkwardly onto the stretcher, joking to the paramedic that if mother sees and bites my head off, he’ll haveta defend me. For some reason, after I’d rung mother and told her what had happened, she took ages before finally appearing; I relaxed somewhat when I saw her about to cross Underwood Rd. to where the Camry had been rammed. When I exited the car and headed towards the ambulance, I’d not seen her but presumed she was still talking to the authorities.

Once we’re all on-board, the driver starts taking us to the hospital. I’m presuming we’ll go to the QE2 coz that’s the closest hospital with an emergency department from my place and that’s where I was carted off to when I first collapsed with my brain injury back in 2007. Then the ambo informs us we’re going to the P.A. and I’m like, wonder why? Not that it mattered! I did have a question for the paramedic, though. ‘How come when you guys first arrived, you came with sirens wailing and lights flashing? Surely when the driver of the car that T-boned us rang emergency services for you guys he’d have said we were stable and not at risk of suddenly dying anytime soon?’

The ambo laughed, before explaining that they had just wanted to clear the traffic, because it turns out whenever there’s a crash people tend to just slow down, pull over and gawk! Hence the flashing lights and wailing sirens to disperse them. Obviously the trip to the hospital was much slower (with lights flashing and sirens wailing the ambulance would’ve had precedence on the road and bolted to the scene of the incident) and quieter. While the paramedic in the front drove, the ambo that had loaded us into the back of the ambulance pulled out some iPad thingy and took down our details. Out of curiosity, I asked, ‘Sir, what kind of Asian are you?’ Despite him having very closely cropped hair (he was practically bald), I could see he was Asian, only I’m not as clever as mother at recognising looks (okay, so I’m actually hopeless XD) but I was pretty certain he was Asian.

The ambo gave a gentle smile, before introducing himself. ‘I’m from Guangzhou.’

Surprised, I reply in Cantonese, ‘Oh, that means you speak the same language as I do!’

He laughs. ‘You sound like a native. Were you born in Guangzhou too?’

It’s my turn to laugh. ‘Actually, I was born in Hong Kong, but the parents and I moved to Brisbane when I was only 3.5, so I should sound like a native Aussie.’

The paramedic nods his agreement. ‘Yes, you don’t have an accent whatsoever.’

For the much slower trip to the hospital, first the paramedic takes down my details with his iPad thingy and then he takes Hannah’s. Eventually the ambulance pulls up somewhere I’m not familiar with; it’s neither the main building entrance nor the building where the insane asylum (my pet name for the Brain Injuries Rehab Unit of the Princess Alexandra hospital XD) is and the paramedic opens the double doors. Hannah says she needs to relieve herself, so the paramedic who loaded me into the stretcher sends the paramedic driver of the ambulance to take her to the bathroom, saying he’ll unload me.

Once off the ambulance, the paramedic wheels me a short distance to a set of double doors; the right indicates go through here for emergencies and the left has a sign saying come through here for non-emergencies. Obviously, we enter the non-emergency side. Inside, it’s like any other hospital ward. We stop at the front desk and the paramedic pushing my stretcher informs the nurse/receptionist manning the front desk that he’s just brought in two people (me and Hannah) involved in a MVA (multi-vehicle accident). We line up behind other people, and when we reach the person behind the counter, I again give my details, as does Hannah who has returned from her bathroom trip. Once we have both provided our details, the paramedic checks to make sure we’re both okay and then takes his leave. I make a mental note to myself that I should try find the ambulance service’s Facebook page (because surely they’d have one?) and leave this guy a thank-you comment. Only I’d already clean forgotten his name! Maybe it was Tony? XD

Hannah suddenly goes, “Oh, I’d better tell my boyfriend what happened,” and starts tapping away at her smartphone. Luckily, I’d remembered to bring my bag along with me and so I grab mine too and check for any messages. I feel loved when I see a Whatsapp message waiting from dearest dad shortly after 8:15am; after I’d rung mother and told her that we’d been t-boned, she must’ve immediately rung dad and dearest dad had contacted me straightaway to see if I was okay. I message him back saying don’t worry; we’re both fine. Just waiting in the emergency department right now. Next I open Facebook; surely I could check-in from the Princess Alexandra hospital? I was super-impressed when I found out that even the EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT of the P.A. Hospital has its own Facebook page!

Suddenly, two uniformed policemen appear to interview Hannah. While they were speaking with her, I snuck a surreptitious peek at them and lemme assure you, I actually felt quite relieved that they didn’t consider me important enough for an interview! See, originally I thought they would ask me what I had noticed just prior to the crash. Thankfully, they ignored me. XD I couldn’t hear clearly what was being said, but in the end, the police slapped Hannah with like a $259 fine because she was at fault in the crash and left. Not only did they carry a gun nestled snugly inside a hip holster; they’re also wired up with a radio! Fair enough, I suppose you need instant access to communication devices during emergencies.

Shortly after they leave, a youngish male doctor appears, introducing himself as one of the doctors in the emergency department and saying he just wanted to check us both out and make sure we were both okay.

Since Hannah was closer, he started with her. First he tapped her back in various places, asking did here hurt? Did there hurt? After that, he gets Hannah to perform other movements, like standing on one leg with your arms behind your back. I remember thinking gosh I hope he won’t ask me to do that too, coz I’ve obviously got sh*tty balance post brain injury and would most likely just topple over should I try attempting such postures/positions! XD Hannah reported some mild shoulder pain (which was totally understandable because the oncoming car had T-boned Hannah’s side of the car) and the doctor did some gentle manipulations, again asking did this position hurt and did that position hurt.

 

Satisfied that Hannah’s uninjured, the doctor next approaches me, still sitting on the hospital bed. Before he can start tapping my back and asking me does this hurt and does that hurt, I quickly explain to him that I’ve got a pre-existing brain injury and unfortunately am very disabled, although what happened today didn’t have any effect on me whatsoever. Just that I’m not confident that I’d be able like Hannah to stand on one foot and reach behind my back with both arms and not topple over …

Luckily, the doctor seems content to lemme sit upright in the hospital bed and do his tapping and asking does this hurt and does that hurt questions. He also runs both arms along all four limbs; when he reaches my left leg and encounters the outline of my orthotic, he pauses and I quickly explain that I wear an orthotic so that I can walk; did he want to see/take off? Just that if he did I’d not be walking. I reach to roll my pant leg up but once the doctor sees my calf encased inside the AFO he says that’s all good and don’t bother.

Satisfied that we’re both uninjured the doctor says he’ll print us both a discharge letter and wanders off.

When he returns he’s bearing two sealed envelopes; he passes one to Hannah and the other to me. I glance at mine. Lol, even though he addressed the letter in capitals, he’s got typical doctor’s handwriting because he’s written my name as EMILT! I grin and raise my hand slightly in the doctor’s direction. When he sees the movement from the corner of his eye and looks at me, I tell him, ‘Uh, doctor, my name’s Emily.’

The doctor checks Hannah’s letter and then replies, ‘Yeah, doesn’t your envelope say EMILY? Hannah’s says HANNAH.’ I laugh. ‘Sorry doc, but I think you’ve got typical doctor’s handwriting. It’s actually very neat and legible but you forgot to curve the two ‘Y’ strokes and it looks more like a ‘T’. My name’s not Emilt!’

The doctor holds his hand out for the envelope and I obediently pass it to him. He brings it up to his face before conceding, ‘Okay, it does rather resemble a ‘T’. Not to worry; that’s easily rectified.’ He fishes out a pen from his shirt pocket and then draws two lines on the envelope somewhere, before handing me back the envelope. I look at it again; yup the doctor has slanted the ‘T’ stroke slightly and now my name resembles EMILY more. XD Hannah and I both thank the doctor; he says bye and then takes leave of us. After he’s gone, Hannah suddenly notices a bathroom across the other side of the room and uses it; when she comes out I ask her can she please find a disabled toilet for me coz I need to relieve myself too? Hannah goes back into the toilet she just came out from and then reappears, saying “You can use this one; it’s got a handrail inside.” I laughed. “Oh, the hospital must’ve forgotten to put a wheelchair photo on this toilet sign then; it’s just got a woman on it.”

After using the toilet, I wash my hand and head back outside. Just as I exit the door, a woman rushes up to me, crying ‘Emily!’

Since I’m admittedly dreadful with faces (I take after dearest dad on this; mother recognises people but not us! XD) I’ll sheepishly confess that I had absolutely zero recollection of seeing before the face who had just rushed up to me, but it could only have been one person. ‘Davina?’

‘Yes; are you both alright?? After I finished talking with Hannah I told the other girls in the office to hold the fort down and came to find you both immediately! Only I wasn’t sure where you had both gone and I’ve had to ask several people for directions before finally finding you! Are you both sure you’re alright??’

Reassuring Davina that we’re both okay, I sit back down in some available armchair because there was no point climbing back into the hospital bed now that we’ve been officially discharged by the doctor. Considering this was the emergency department (even though it’s the non-emergency department of the emergency department) who knew if the bed I’d been put in would suddenly be required by someone else? Hence why I just sat in the armchair. Besides, I like things with backrests better. XD

Davina and Hannah take seats beside me, Davina telling Hannah that she’s already found different carers to cover the other shifts Hannah has got on today; she’ll drive Hannah back to my place so that Hannah can collect her own car and then Hannah is to rest for the remainder of Wednesday, is that understood?

Shortly afterwards, mother arrives also. After several pleasantries we all say bye to each other; I also tell Davina I’ll e-mail her and tell her what happened (because I was sure Hannah would be doing the same while Davina drove her back to our place so Hannah could collect her tank). Mother walks behind me and gives me directions out of the building; I’m not familiar with the non-emergency side of the emergency part of the P.A. hospital but from the several seconds I saw it resembles any standard waiting room with rows of chairs occupied by people?

Mother directs me outside to where she’d parked the 4WD. I’d never been there before, but I think it kinda resembled the main entrance to the P.A. hospital where you parked around the front. Once inside the car mother tootled us home; I was rather surprised to note that it was well after midday by then because my appointment at UQ for physio had been at 9am!

When mother reached Warrigal Square I did try politely asking mother could we please duck inside and grab a quick lunch because ‘twas after 1pm and although I hadn’t done any exercises at physio this morning I’d had quite an early breakfast and was hungry. I thought it a reasonable request but mother immediately bit my head off (figuratively, not literally, obviously XD), tootled me home and fed me a small half bowl of tasteless, boiled rice leftovers. XD

Actually, when mother pulled into the driveway, our Cantonese neighbour Uncle Alan was actually on it sweeping away some blown leaves/sth else; his wife was with him also. After I’d climbed awkwardly out of the car Aunty Emily rushed up to me, exclaiming, ‘Are you alright?? Michelle (their middle daughter) read about what happened to you on Facebook and told us; we came over right away!’

I thanked her for her concern and said please don’t worry; nobody was injured. Aunty Emily then passed me a box of Hello Panda bikkies, saying, “Here, I bought these for you.” Aww, isn’t she sweet~

That afternoon, while mother was upstairs taking her long afternoon nap that usually stretches well into the evening, I e-mailed Sonia (the teacher at the UQ physio clinic) apologising to her for missing my appointment that day (Tuesdays and Fridays I have physio there for one hour but Wednesday’s are my longer two-hour sessions) and explaining what had occurred. Less than one hour later she replied, saying Em!!!
What an ordeal! I hope that Hannah recovers from the shock! And you too of course! See you Friday!

Thanks also to everyone who reacted and commented with messages of support and well wishes on the post I shared while waiting in the emergency department of the Princess Alexandra hospital for the doctor to come assess us; I thought the funniest was one SHINE fellowship sister, who wrote ‘I hope your mum fed you a big lunch afterwards to make up for the shock!!’ I reacted haha back and replied I wasn’t *that* lucky; lunch had been a small half bowl of tasteless, boiled rice leftovers. To that she’d reacted haha also. XD

What I honestly found amusing was how mother managed to turn something that had befallen Hannah and I into something concerning her, actually, *all about* her even though she hadn’t been present when the incident had occurred. I suppose she felt she had the right because she had to deal with the aftermath like ringing insurers and finding a new car because sure enough, the poor Camry was finally written off. I suppose it’s possible to recover from a bruised bum but this time when I saw the photo of the damaged Camry even I guessed ‘twas the end for the Camry. The entire side of the car fractionally behind the driver’s seat had been smashed in…

In the days afterwards, mother drives to some caryard to discover the fate of the Camry. As expected, he’d perished … L I’ve never heard of cars having souls before, but I will really miss that little red Camry of ours that served us faithfully for a good fifteen years.

 

Epilogue: Mother starts researching around to buy a new car and eventually decides on some Nissan Qashqai. We all head to Nissan to pick up the new car. Originally I’d assumed dearest dad would drive the new car home and tell mother to follow with me in the old car but feel very loved when he tells mother to drive the old car home herself while he drives me home in the new car! Usually I sit in the backseat but that day dad tells me to sit in the passenger seat beside him because he wants to show me something! Intrigued, I climb into the passenger seat beside him; the first cool thing I notice about this new car is that it’s got a start/stop button! Dad laughs, invites me to push it, and starts driving us home. While he does so, I poke around the front selection menu, very impressed with how it’s already got all the popular radio stations preset.

Dad’s driving along the highway somewhere and I’m happily fiddling with the radio stations, when suddenly this new car starts beeping loudly at us! Me: huh? Dad, laughing: look! He gently turns the steering wheel to the left, bringing the car from its straight line along the highway to slightly crooked and sure enough, the car starts BEEPING at us loudly again! I realise this new car’s so smart it can even detect and warn you when you are not driving straight inside your lane anymore and laugh. The only pity’s that the car’s dark grey; the original 4WD was already light grey! Dearest dad’s work van’s white; the only splash of colour we originally had was the red Camry and now he’s gone …

 

Well, all good things must come to an end. Farewell, 380 JDA. You’ve served us faithfully over the last 1.5 decades and while I’m aware that cars aren’t animate and don’t have souls, I hope after you were written off as a total loss and potentially destroyed your parts were able to become useful for something else. I’ll never forget you, considering you were the only car I ever drove before the brain injury wiped me out … thank-you for your steadfast work ferrying the parents and I wherever we needed to go. You will be missed.

Cheers~