The owner of the auto shop my car is currently housed in called me this afternoon. He said it was awfully close, but the insurance company opted to fix my car rather than total it. Since the frame and engine were unharmed, and the car is still fairly new, it was considered to be worth fixing.
I was so relieved that my legs started shaking. I've always been an emotional person. I get very invested in things, and my car represented more than just a means of getting from point A to B. I still remember with some measure of regret important things I've lost over the years, like my favorite teddy bear. It wasn't the bear itself, but the comfort it represented that I missed. I place more meaning than I should, perhaps, in material objects. Rather than viewing them as replaceable, I instead view them with sentimental value attached. A replacement is not quite the same.
So in about two weeks, I'll have my car back. Right now it's sitting in pieces in the auto shop, stripped of its panels and bumper, waiting to be put back together. I'll be happy to go get it from the shop and bring it home.
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