A Sad Farewell

Last week, I sold my father's car. It was one of the last few things my father bought and treasured deeply before he passed on and marked a milestone in his life. As such, the keys were handed over to the car dealer with a very heavy weight on my heart.

A milestone? Well, my father was a car enthusiast as a young man - much like his only son. At a point in his life where he was financially well-off, he owned up to seven cars at a go. Most of them were regular cars but the one that he truly treasured was his MG Triumph convertible. And when bad times hit him, he lost all of them - including his beloved MG. Since then, he never really showed much excitement for cars and because of his financial position, he never got to buy a new car. Whenever the topic of new cars came up, he'd say "Any used car is fine. It is just for transportation." But his eyes would light up when we talked about convertibles. I knew he loved them and now that I can probably afford to buy him one - a used one, that is - my father is no longer around to grant me the honour to bring that special smile to his face... the same smile that I saw as a little boy when he started the sporty sounding engine of his British-made silver sports car. This will haunt me forever.

My father worked very hard. At his age where many elderly men were retired and enjoying the fruits of their labour, my father was still labouring. And as a result of his years of hard work and facing many adversities, he rebuilt his business and was finally able to afford a new car. I recall in May of 2003 (a Saturday), my father asked me to drive him to the local Kia showroom "just to see" the new models. I thought it would be fun. When we got there, he opened the door to a Kia Spectra on display and said "This one is spacious" and without enquiring much else, he called for the sales agent to draw up the sales agreement! I felt my chest tighten. I asked him nervously "Can we afford another car? We have to pay a sizeable downpayment!". His casual response was "I'm not afraid of a few thousand dollars."

This was not the voice of pride or arrogance. He had lost more than half a million dollars as a result of unscrupulous partners and legal issues in the 70s - eventually losing his MG - so this did not worry him too much. However, I panicked... without fully understanding that he had carefully set aside a budget for his brand new Korean-made sedan.

He bought the car because firstly, it was something he always wanted to do for a long time. Secondly, he wanted to be independent and get around without waiting for me to come pick him up but most importantly, he wanted my wife and I to spend more time together on our own instead of scheduling our time so that we could ferry him to and from work. However, his "independence" was short-lived when I insisted that he stop driving about a year later after a couple of accidents. And not long before this, I too had bought a new car after selling my 13 year old Nissan. So, my father's pride and joy sat in our apartment's car park waiting anxiously to hit the roads.

The car wasn't always just a spare vehicle. It came in handy when my father became ill last year when my wife drove it between work and the hospital to visit my dad everyday while I worked at his office during the day and headed to my regular job at night. It tranported my dear wife and our baby boy in her "tummy" to work and back till the day he was born - faithfully - without her having to worry about jostling with peak hour human traffic trying to cram into trains or brave long queues for taxis. The car that seemed like my father's extravagant purchase became a boon to the both of us. All it needed in return was a tank of petrol and a good wash once every two weeks.

When we decided to sell the car, it felt like we were abandoning a faithful soul. It pained us both deeply. But emotions aside, it was a financial burden with petrol prices, road-tax and insurance premiums being what they are today. So, for the sake of our financial future, we let it go. Although I feel like I let my father down somewhat, I think the loss is most felt by my wife. But as sad as we were, we were happy to learn that the car will not end up in the scrap yard but will be de-registered and exported to another country to begin a new lease of life. I am sure it will make another owner somewhere very happy too.

It may seem silly but I'd like to say "thank you" to a car that meant a great deal to all of us. I wish it be blessed with a caring owner and many more good years. Goodbye, my friend. We will miss you.