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Driving Away

I pulled into the parking lot to grab my morning iced green tea with lemon when I saw the familiar vehicle.
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I pulled into the parking lot to grab my morning iced green tea with lemon when I saw the familiar vehicle.

It was a vehicle I once drove, that we once shared. A vehicle that had been filled to the gills for our annual week-long summer vacation in Maine. It carried us to New Hampshire to celebrate Christmases with family, to camping trips on Cape Cod, and Thanksgivings at my cousin's home.

I had used it to pick the kids up at preschool, to doctor's appointments, play dates, athletic practices and birthday parties. He had once opened the door and helped me into the cabin when our daughter was born. I filled the back up with hundreds of bags from trips to the grocery store. My son and I brought our first dog home and worried as she whimpered in the back seat wondering what her future would hold.

Songs were sung and conversations held. Trips to amusement parks and apple picking were taken. We used the vehicle to pick up our second family dog shortly after our first sweet girl unexpectedly passed. From behind the steering wheel my eyes often glanced in the mirror to observe my children sleeping, laughing and looking out the window, lost in their own thoughts.

My throat tightened. Today he would be driving the car alone. In separate cars we would drive to the courthouse, seeking a judge's approval to end our marriage.

As he backed out of the parking spot our eyes met. There he was, my friend, the man I have known for over 15 years. Without thinking I put my hand up, smiled and waved. He did the same. There was a short pause. I wondered if I should walk over, but then he put the car into drive and slowly pulled away.

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