Parting is usually not sweet sorrow for me.

Just plain old sorrow.

Saying goodbye stays with me and nibbles away although the one exception will be shouting, “Bye, Felicia” to Agent Orange on November 3rd…a heartfelt, energetically dismissive send-off to the worst president and most despicable subhuman.

Other then him, it does not matter who or what I bid adieu to, I always experience the pangs of moving on.

Saturday, I virtually waved goodbye to our 23 year-old Volvo Cross Country station wagon.

So many memories are associated with my dependable blue Volvo.

My daughter learned how to drive in that car.

I motored around Marin County playing the role of suburban housewife in our Volvo wagon.

The time and place was reflected in my Volvo Vanity Plate which read, Donna Reed.

The impetus was the Donna Reed TV show which ran from 1958 to 1966 portraying an American mother and housewife which unfortunately resonated in my beautiful, but limited surroundings.

It happily transported the canine loves of my life…Tougher II (Goldshores Toughshot II), Berkeley, Ms. Madison Avenue and Finnley.

The navy blue wagon fetched and carried carpools, served as the ultimate tailgate party wagon at swimming meets, tennis matches, lacrosse and soccer games, SF Giants and 49er games.

It schlepped furniture and more groceries then I can ever possibly recall.

The Volvo made the cross country journey from California to New York.

We had weekly karaoke songfests together as we ventured to Connecticut to hang with Queen E.

On Saturday we traded in our reliable bestie for a brand spanking new Volvo SUV.

Happy Trails, my mechanical buddy…it was a superb run😢