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The End of the End…
The Death of a Country Prius V
I thought, after months and years of fighting over money, debt, children, and home, it had been over. I thought it was over two years ago. But is it really over?
Two years ago, next month, the courts gave me the title to the car I had paid for in my marriage. My Prius V wagon had been sitting in the lane, by the garage for around 7 months. The head gasket had blown early in May and I didn’t have the cash to fix it. Nor did my father or lawyer suggest I do that, due to the fact that my entire life (including this car) was in my then-husband’s name.
So I took my bike to work. In the wind, the rain, and threats of snow. We had one car for the whole family to share. Three drivers. One car. I didn’t want to drive it anyway. It had been his car and was on it’s very, very last leg. The courts had “generously” let us keep that. I have since given it away without regret. None of us had wanted it. It had been the representation of his lame attempts at showing a court how much he “cared” about his kids. The car, he never put any time or money into. The car, he discarded the second he was served divorce papers. He knew his money would all be his very soon. He was not wrong, of course.
That November, 4K later, thanks to my father, I had a car. The courts did give me my effing car. That’s really…
