A Farewell Letter

 Ifennyi and Joan

Dear Acura:

You came into my life unexpectedly.  When I took my other Acura into the dealer for repairs, a good looking, fast talking young man convinced me that I should go for a trade-in.  It turned out to be a winning move.

You missed the most turbulent stops on that long and winding road that is my life. So yes, it’s been the two of us day by day.  You’re my dining room, my snack bar, my waiting place, my delivery system.  We listened to the news and the sports talk and, of course, the music.  Remember that time we pulled over to hear the end of Rhapsody in Blue?

Here’s some good news.  I’ve put you into the hands of Ifennyi Ifebueme.  He is a good man.  The kind of person that, when you know you are going to see him and spend a few minutes together, it makes you smile.  You already know him because he works in our garage.   

 Ifennyi is from Nigeria. I remember the day when he was bursting with joy.  “I am now an American Citizen!”, he beamed.  “And now I can plan to bring my wife and son to join me here!”

                                                                               

“Ifennyi,” I said today,  “Did you say you are going to ship the car to Africa?”  “Yes. I know now that I will never be able to bring my family here.   My future now is in Nigeria and I will return.”  He saw my look of shame and sadness. He put his arm around my shoulder.  “I still have big plans, I will be a farmer in Nigeria,” he smiled.  How could we be so stupid as to lose him, I thought.  

So, Ifennyi has big plans for you.  A continuation of your global existence.  From Japan and now on  to Africa.                         

When you leave me standing here, it will be a very fond farewell.  Ifennyi’s spirit will never be crushed.  You will be with him —as you were with me — for many more miles to come.