My First Two Cars
- Simply Jelly Jam
- May 19
- 7 min read
I never drove them.
Do you remember your first vehicle? How about your second vehicle? Well, I vaguely recall my first two cars. I recall feeling excited to receive them as gifts, but I never got to drive them. I at least got to drive my third car for a few months.
In case it's helpful, below are the main points covered in this post:
My First Car: A Shiny Blue Sedan
I recall seeing a small blue sedan in the driveway. I felt disbelief when my brother said it was his gift to me.
I was a fifteen-year-old with a driver's permit. I will not get my driver's license for several months. I never imagined that I would own a car until adulthood, especially since I did not have a job, nor was I allowed to get one.
And yet my brother bought me a used blue sedan. I did not feel like I deserved it. But he insisted it was the least he could do for his baby sister.
I was in shock. So was mom.
Mom yelled at my brother about making a huge purchase that I did not need. She complained about the following:
I was too young to own a car.
I was irresponsible to be trusted with a large responsibility.
I was not going to be allowed to drive even when I got my driver's license.
My brother could not afford to buy a used car in full.
My brother should think about his own children first before me.*
*For context: my brother is nineteen years older than me. He was always an adult figure in my life. At the time, he had two daughters close to my age. The oldest is a year-and-a-half younger than I am, which meant it was not long before she pursued a driver's permit.
My brother insisted that his children were good and that I deserved to have my own car.
I do not recall the full argument, but it ended with my brother handing me the keys and walking away (he lived down the street from us at the time).
Mom took the keys and told me I did not need them since I could not drive the car anyway.
The next week, I returned home from school to find the driveway empty. When I asked about the car, Mom said she sold it because we were financially hurting. I do not know what the money was used for, or how much mom sold the car for.
I was disappointed but not surprised. Mom regularly returned, re-gifted, or sold gifts I received as a minor. I once wrote about how mom got rid of my favorite Christmas gift ever, also from my brother. This was in character for her.
My Second Car: A Sleek White Sedan
The next year, I saw a small white sedan in the driveway. It looked identical to the blue car my brother previously gave me.
Sure enough, my brother bought me another used sedan! I felt grateful for the love and kindness my brother had for me, but I did not feel excited.
Let us just say that history repeated itself for the most part. Mom and brother argued. Deep down, I knew I would never get to keep the car.
Unlike last time, my brother took the car with him. He told me that he would hold it for safe keeping until I was able to drive it. I was grateful and told him so, but I did not believe I would ever get to keep the car.
Sure enough, I never saw the car again. My brother married his current wife and let her use the car to drive where she needed to get to. He still told me that the car would be mine and not hers, but it did not matter.
When my brother and sister-in-law learned that a relative stole the car at nights to, um, have spicy sleep with men in the backseat, my brother sold the car because it was "tainted."
Not owning the car did not bother me since I expected mom to not let me have it. What bothered me was when mom admitted that she did not want me to have any freedom or independence.
She always wanted me to rely on her until the day that she needed to rely on me. Mom worried that I would leave her and never return home if I had a car.
My First "Real" Car: A Black Beauty
My dad surprised me with a car for my twenty-first birthday. It was a brand-new black Suzuki Aerio!
I was grateful for the thoughtful gift, but I once again did not believe I would be allowed to keep it.
I still lived with mom at the time because I was raised to never leave her. I was "bred" to be her financial and emotional support for life. Being a lifelong caretaker for her was my purpose in life according to mom. I genuinely believed that at the time.
Anyway...
Mom and dad argued. However, the argument did not go in mom's favor. Dad handed me the keys and warned me to keep them away from mom. He helped me get everything settled: title transferred to my name, car insurance established, parking permit at my community college obtained, and whatever else I am forgetful about right now.
This car was my pride and joy! I drove it to school daily. I cleaned the interior weekly. I washed the exterior monthly. I followed the road rules while driving. I parked in the back of store parking lots to minimize chances of getting a door ding.
I did everything in my power to keep my car safe and prove to dad that he did not make a mistake in gifting me such an expensive purchase and responsibility.
Sadly, my car was totaled seven months later. Dad was driving. I sat in the passenger seat. My maternal grandmother and her sister were in the back seat. We drove through thick black smoke because of a grass fire on the side of the highway.
Every driver turned on their emergency flashers and applied their brakes. Dad did the same. Unfortunately, the driver behind us was not paying attention and hit us hard.
The car was pushed off the highway towards the fire. Fortunately, firefighters were on scene to put out the fire. They redirected their focus to the area near us so that we would not remain engulfed in the smoke.
Police arrived on scene. We were evaluated for injuries. The other driver did pull over and speak with police. He admitted that he was distracted, speeding, and could not stop fast enough to avoid impact. His pickup truck had a few scratches.
My car looked unrecognizable from the rear. Thank goodness for crumple zones.
My car was totaled. I at least owned it for a fantastic seven months! Most importantly, we were alive and unharmed. The police were surprised that we walked away from it. I am grateful that my elderly grandmother and her sister were not injured.
I used public transportation for about a year or two before I took my dad's old Honda Civic.
Have you been following my 'mamma drama' through my blog posts? Are you wondering how she reacted after learning that we were in a collision that could have severely injured or claimed our lives? Well, make your guess on how she reacted now.
Mom was furious with dad! She blamed him for the accident despite the confession of the other driver and police report saying otherwise. However, she was grateful that I no longer had a car. She said she would feel more at ease knowing I could not drive off whenever I wanted.
Not once did she ask how dad or I was doing. She was more embarrassed about what people would say about the incident, so she kept it secret from family, relatives, and her friends.
I do not know for sure, but I believe mom encouraged my grandmother to lie about being injured. About a month after the incident, my grandmother complained about neck and back/spinal pains. I panicked and asked her for details. I was prepared to take mom's car keys and rush my grandmother to the emergency room.
Except my grandmother could not give me details about her pain and suffering. As I am asking her for more specifics, my mom was yelling at me to contact the insurance company or get a lawyer to sue the other driver.
In private, I asked my grandmother to be honest. She told me that she was not in pain. I was grateful that she was alright, but angry that mom was trying to get me to sue for money she probably felt entitled to. I refused to sue, and mom gave me the silent treatment for weeks.
I told my grandmother that if she actually felt pain from the accident to let me know so we can get her medical help and figure out what our next steps should be based on what the doctor said.
Mom later admitted that she wanted me to collect money because we were hurting financially. At this point, I knew mom was lying because I paid most of her bills. I also knew about mom's financial problem secrets thanks to her honest lawyer, but that is a story for another day.
What's Next?
Writing this post reminded me that I am loved and cared for. My brother and dad still spoil me, but in different ways. I receive praise and attention from them. They lift my spirits when I am down. They love me unconditionally.
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Thanks, and have a great day!
~Simply Jelly Jam
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