I had what was certainly the most enjoyable year of my professional life and one of the most difficult years of my personal life. I’m reminded of these extremes every spring when it is time to wake up our Miata.
I remember the joyous feeling of accomplishment and the look of pride in my father’s face at seeing me so happy when we all were there for the delivery. Who knew that in seven months he would be gone.
Every May is more than just charging the battery. More than rolling back the car cover. More than removing and storing the hard top. It is a realization that this car is a representation of all that is precious to us.
Time is here to live, not to be squandered. Work hard, work smart, and enjoy what you have with no regrets. Understanding that working to live is most certainly the best option.
I enjoy the bittersweet process of awakening our Miata. Stirring it back to life from its long winter slumber.
This not an exotic car, but for pure driving pleasure, it is hard to surpass. Granted, if it was German or Italian it would probably garner greater respect and value.
Small, nimble, fun, it is a car that doesn’t intimidate. It becomes a part of you. It puts a smile on your face when you drive it or watch one pass by.
Especially during those first few drives of spring, just like the season, it initiates rebirth. Of roads to be travelled. Of feelings returned.
Most importantly for us, it’s that Saturday in April, 1993 when all was right with the world.
Images courtesy of the author.