6:00pm, pacific standard time, apartment in Chandler, Arizona, USA, Wednesday evening, July 20, 2022. I listed my truck for sale this morning before taking it to a car wash for a deep clean and shine. There have been no responses to the ad yet, but I will sell it one way or the other before too long. That is a hard thing to say. I have owned the truck for over 12 years, the longest of any vehicle in my life. But I can’t keep it. I don’t want to insure it, nor do I want to take it back to California and re-register it. However, letting it go will be sorrowful. In many ways the truck has been a comforting touchstone of the past. Ten years ago we took a family vacation to South Dakota in it. At that time life was violently unstable. We were moving from Utah to California and had not settled in, nor were we sure we would stay together as a family. We were strained and stressed by many issues, mostly of my doing. The truck was a self-contained safe haven; inside the cab there was no sadness, frustration or anger, just our small family, driving around Wyoming and South Dakota, dodging thunderstorms, drinking coffee and enjoying being together. Alas, nothing lasts forever. After a week the vacation was over and life went on. To the point where now the truck is old and needs significant repairs (kind of like our marriage?) I guess eventually that is how everything goes; at some point you have to say good bye and realize, no matter what, all good things come to an end.