My Baby Is Mortally Wounded

No, it's not our daughters. They're fine.

My baby -- the Jeep Grand Cherokee who's taken us through years of driving -- is totalled.

                                          (It's like this, but tan.)

It's all the hailstorm's fault. Darn hail, anyway. The adjuster said it would take more money to fix than the car was worth.
    I can't believe it. 
That car and I have been through hell, blizzards, high winds, searing heat, even a dust storm together. (Did that last one on the way home from a gig once, on the Colorado border. One of the most terrifying things ever, quivering under an overpass with a bunch of other cars. The sky really does go totally black, with objects whirling past you. Now I know how Dorothy and Toto felt.) 
     It's schlepped the girls to school. Carried umpteen loads of lumber, dog food and groceries, not to mention several beloved dogs. It's done the 800-plus mile trip to Michigan to see The Mama and family many times...all without complaining. (If you're looking for a reliable vehicle, this is the one to get. Our experience with several Cherokees over the years, other than the occasional tuneup or brake job, has been remarkably trouble-free. Ok, we did replace the engine on the first one, after 200,000 miles.)
    Sure, it doesn't look that elegant. (But it handles on a dime! It zips around corners fast -- saving us from several would-be accidents.)
    It's more often covered with mud and dust, thanks to the Brick's habit of four-wheeling and taking it hunting. (And the hailstorm 'dimples' are kind of cute.)
    It's getting a little elderly, and the odometer is sneaking up on 199,999. (But it's a powerhouse in a storm -- and gets you home, safe and warm throughout, through blinding snow. And all of our Cherokees have easily gone over the 250,000 mark.)

    I love my Jeep Cherokee. All of our Cherokees -- and we've had three now -- have been excellent. Hopefully the next one will be the same.

   I just don't want to see this one go.