Rest in Peace, (My Car) Swish
Love, Loss & Life Lessons
Last year, my car was hit by a drunk driver. The day before the accident, I drove to work not knowing what was going to happen. Feeling angry when I left for home, my final drive was not happy. Stuck in traffic, behind a red light, I thought, “I want this over.” I had a bad day at work and a desire to take leave ruined what is normally a small joy. When I reached the house, I abruptly parked, shut the door and went straight inside. All without taking a glance behind.
The following day, I woke up to see the car destroyed. Car parts sprawled over both sides of the street, Immediately, I had two thoughts.
One: Thank God I wasn’t inside
Two: I wish the last drive mattered more.
The accident occurred at 2 in the morning. Asleep in bed, I consider myself a little lucky. On the phone or playing a game, it’s common for me to be in the car in the early morning. Given the damage and shrapnel, I was gratefully spared. Cars can be replaced. People cannot.
I will say though, that you can never really replace a car. You can’t recreate the situations shared, or the context that comes with ownership. Driving the car for roughly two years, we shared a lot of good times. The first day I got it, I brought it to a friend's house. Quickly, he proclaimed:
“Yo! That car is sick with it!”
Sick with it? I thought. I like the ring of that. From that day on, I began calling my car, SWI. Wheel in hand, freedom abundant, the world was mine. For those two years, my car and I went everywhere. Work, Coffee runs, late drives, we did everything. My car and I were thick as thieves. SWI was a great name, but over time, I found it lacking. It just didn’t ring off the tongue. I love basketball. What about Swish?
Sick with it, so hot.
Now that’s a name! If it sounds silly, I don’t blame you. I think it’s silly too. But it made me happy. Plus, Swish needed more pizazz. He was a swaggy car. Swish was the first car I owned that wasn’t a hand-me-down. As such, the energy felt fresh and untainted. I geeked out over having my own vehicle. And in traditional geek fashion, I fastened a matte red Gyrados, right over the back seats.
Looking back, I loved Swish. I will admit, however, that hindsight is 20/20. As much as I loved Swish, I did question its fit at times. You see, Swish was a gift from my father, and I remember feeling uncertain about it at the time. We bought the car on a whim when we saw a good deal online. After the purchase, I worried I didn’t have a good chance to scope out the options. Furthermore, I was insecure about being gifted something as lavish as a BMW. In reality, though, I regret my worries.
Death taught me one thing for certain:
You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.
After losing Swish, I realized, most deterring thoughts are not worth having.
Swish provided me with a platform to explore the world. In addition, it gave a venue to meet people. I should be grateful. Happy that my father thought well of me enough to purchase me the vehicle. Lucky to have a chance to drive something so wonderful.
To get you from point A to point B. Is that not the point of a car?
In two short years, my car created a meaningful happenstance in my life. As my days grow, I’m starting to believe that a life well-lived is a life that makes the best of everything.
Also, I gotta admit, BMW is a baller brand. After picking up my younger cousins a few times, I realized I was driving something special. They would look at the car and gawk. Saying things like: “When I grow up, I want to have a car like yours!”Aged between middle and high school age, the little homies really liked Swish.
At one point, I told my younger cousin that I was having a tough time in life. “At least you have a BMW!” he proclaimed.
I remember having a similar experience with my older cousins' cars when I was their age. My older cousins drove BMWs and I would say the same thing. Your life must be great! But I had yet to realize that even when you have a nice car, it doesn’t mean life is suddenly meaningful.
Late to an appointment or worrying about what’s coming next, often times the car becomes secondary. You forget about its nice steering. You no longer appreciate the power behind the pedals. You lose sight of how it feels to push down the highway with a nice song in the background.
In reality, if we allow it, life becomes about objectives. You can get lost in the sauce. Trapped in the hustle. No longer smiling at life’s little oddities. After losing Swish, I don’t want to make that mistake again. Actually, I’m delighted kids notice cars. They make me want to slow down and examine what’s actually important.
“When they do make the whip you like, your chips ain’t right, By the time you could afford it, the car ain’t important.” — Rakim, Classic
Without a doubt, I miss having Swish. Although these days I’m rolling in something new. A car that makes me happy to be back on the road again. One that turns heads and brings that nice little fire from my insides. A black crossover Audi. I haven’t settled on a name yet, but thus far, I’m thinking “Sufi”.
Having Swish was a great chapter of my life, and losing Swish taught me lessons about loss. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. My advice? Make the most of your today.
If you found this interesting, you may like this piece I wrote about the unknown.
