I thought I was prepared to handle death until its cold, sunken eyes were staring me in the face. Driving down Naper Boulevard, I noticed a light come on in my Alabaster Silver 2011 Honda Odyssey: a red rectangle with two nodes on each end, wrapped around a “+” and “-” sign. I felt a pit in my stomach, which only deepened moments later when I saw a message on the dashboard confirming my suspicions.
“Check Charge System”
It was clear that my car’s battery was experiencing hardship, but being only 5 minutes away from home, I was not too worried. As long as the car was running, any battery-centric issues could be compensated for by gas, right? Wrong. What I had thought was a simple battery problem soon revealed itself to be so much more. As I continued to drive along, inching my way closer to home, I was suddenly enveloped by darkness. My control panel, once lit up by faint white lights, had gone pitch black. At this point, I was about two minutes away from home, confident that I would make it back but uncertain of the cost it would take to arrive.
Shortly after my control panel went zero-dark thirty, the nav screen followed suit, taking my music with it. It was at this point I started accepting that this was more than just a battery problem. My car’s vital organs were failing. I was able to make it home a minute or two later, but this was no time to celebrate. I walked into my house and was met by my dad and a family friend of ours having a conversation. I explained to them what I had just seen and after a few minutes of deliberation over my witness testimony, it was determined that the car was suffering from a problem with the alternator. If you are ignorant of the function of an alternator like I was, it’s a generator within the car that converts mechanical energy into electric energy while the car is driving or idling. That explained everything– from the failures of the internal lights to the deterioration of the electric power steering. My relief when I realized that I hadn’t in fact witnessed the death of my car cannot be put into words.
Two days later, we were able to take the car to the shop and get it repaired. A tragic death had turned out to be a minor battle scar, and for that I was grateful. What I cherished, even more, was the irrevocable bond that I had formed with that silver stallion. Witnessing its miraculous survival, I found myself appreciating the Odyssey’s reliability in the face of destitution more than I ever had before. I’ve never met a more consistent force of nature, and I’m not sure I ever will. Sure she’s had her struggles, but haven’t we all? As Rocky so eloquently said, “It’s not about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward”. Lord knows that the Odyssey has taken her fair share of hits, yet still she manages to grit her teeth and keep on churning. During times of pain, when I feel too weak to keep on plodding ahead, I’ll remember the Odyssey. Because if she hasn’t quit after all these years, why should I?
Greetings Adi, thanks for sharing the story of this brave soldier–and in such a remarkable manner. Your choice of diction never fails to amaze me with its subtle yet irresistible humor. Though my Subaru has never had a near-death experience like your silver stallion, I feel the same twinge of utter dejection whenever I’m cruising in my hood and a random warning light comes on.
About your larger message surrounding resiliency in the face of adversity, I couldn’t agree more. On a somewhat similar note, I’ve heard the quote to judge a man “not by how he acts in victory, but by how he acts in defeat.” It’s easy to embody all of the positive qualities when things are going well, but it takes real strength to embody those same virtues in defeat.
Hello, Adi! I agree with Jacob in finding your story delivered with amazing wit, humor, and literary prowess! I’m glad that you managed to get the car fixed; I’m sure a problem like that doesn’t happen every day, and it’s a relief that you managed to get home with it in the nick of time. Although this may not be the best comparison, it does remind me of whenever my phone dies and I try my best to maximize its efficiency and longevity.
I think your tale definitely does serve as a reminder of the importance of adversity and perseverance through that adversity. We shouldn’t give up and continue to push to where we want to be. As the old Latin phrase says, “per aspera, ad astra.” Through hardships to the stars.
Adi,
Your car’s battle scar is one that my ancient Acura MDX shares. I myself am the last to admit the fact that I am not the best driver. However, with time this statement has solidified with truth behind it. I have been in two accidents, one including my car getting close to totaled from the impact of a school bus. I have also accidentally backed into my garage when it was still opening twice – and yes I am fully aware of how this is making me look. The culmination of these wounds my car holds are reflected through its consistent issues with its engine, battery, fuel, oil – the list goes on. Regardless, the beauty of my car is its embodiment of strength and persistence through difficult times, which is clearly displayed through your Odyssey as well. Thanks for sharing!
Howdy Adi, I normally don’t like roller coasters and theme parks, but I can assure you that this emotional ride was phenomenal. I too have had my fair share of vehicle scares. After a seemingly peaceful and relaxing night in the winter, I tried to ignite my car’s engine, but alas it wouldn’t start. Similar to your predicament, my battery had died because I had forgotten to turn off the headlights and it drained the battery in the cold, cruel parking lot. Alas, I too had to consult the officials: my parents and Google. We figured out how to jump start a car, and fortunately, after a 15 minute period full of worry, the SUV was returned to its original glory.
I also really appreciate the connection you made to a meaningful and powerful message in life. So many times in life, it is simple to feel so exasperated and anxious, the only way seems to be to give in. However, I recently heard a remarkable speech by a fellow classmate that reminded me of the famous quote by Albert Einstein: “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.” In this case, the bicycle is the car, and keeping balance is auto repair.