On Fixing my Car and, Loving my Dad
Tonight, while driving home from work, my windows down and my radio playing, I realized my car was putting out a strong burning smell: the kind an older car has when its converters or mechanisms aren’t up to the latest environmentally friendly standards. Scorching chemicals, that’s what it smelled like, assaulting the air around me.
Thing is, my car is a 2001 Volkswagon Jetta TDI (diesel), not a 1974 beater. And it’s been in the shop three times in the past month, for this same burning smell, for a check engine light, for revving too fast when driving low speeds. Each time, the mechanics told us the same thing: we tested everything, and nothing’s wrong.
When I got home, my dad called the dealership where we take my car, and they agreed to look at it ASAP. Any plans I had for the evening were out–coffee with a friend, catching up on some e-mails, leisurely relaxing at home. Dad drove Jetta; I drove a family car. Dealership said they’ll keep it for a few days, and hopefully they’ll figure it out.
Possibilities? The catalytic converter ($1200 expense). This is what I hope it is, because VW is actually replacing these at no charge because of some faulty manufacturing. Something else (unknown cost). This concerns me because it could be anything (or “nothing”).
Dad hard-balled with the customer service lady, telling her we’re (he’s) not paying them to fix what they should’ve found in the very beginning. This is a waste of time, of energy, etc. She seemed unsympathetic, but I know Dad.
As cliche as this all is, is times like these I think how thankful I am for my dad. He’s given up three full days of his time already, taking my car in and waiting for them to fix it. And no matter how many times I’ve asked him to give me the bills (!), he won’t let me pay for it.
On top of everything else he’s given me, from braces to college education to 25 years of love, he sacrifices his time and energy to help me when I need him. I know a lot of people say parents spoil their children by giving them so much, and maybe that’s true. But, speaking as the one who’s received again and again, I am nothing but thankful.
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One Response to “On Fixing my Car and, Loving my Dad”
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Your the third person I’ve heard about in the last two weeks that has had a “mysterious” car problem. Two other friends had their cars basically shut down on them while driving…but once started again and taken to a dealership they checked out fine with the mechanics shrugging their shoulders. So weird. Good luck with yours!