It wasn't just a car

It seems silly that I was upset that my mom's car was picked up Friday night to be shipped back to my brother in Illinois. After all, it was just a car. But while the car is a material item, it was still her car. I insisted on staying outside in the darkness Friday night (the driver had been stuck in a traffic jam coming out of Phoenix and was late getting to me), while the Corvette that would sit behind Mom's car was unloaded, Mom's car was loaded, and then the driver reloaded the corvette and checked everything. 

With a simple goodbye, saying he was ready, the truck turned the corner in the darkness and I said goodbye to yet another piece of my mom's life.