My husband died two years ago. His Subaru was in the garage, and I was afraid to approach it. And yesterday I sat down, turned the key, and it started. And you know, I cried in this salon because it smells of him, tobacco and gasoline. I don't understand the technique, but when I park, I whisper, "cami, help." The car listens to me, even though I'm an older woman and not much of a driver. I washed it by hand today. It's not just metal, it's memory. I'm going to the temple on it tomorrow. #cars