I wanted to write what recently happened in my last blog, however, it was not the right time. I’m not sure there ever is a right time, but I felt compelled to tell this story.

While Gary and I were on our way back to the hotel in Virginia Beach a few weeks ago, we received a call that a dear friend of ours had unexpectedly passed on.

Our friendship with her and her husband began bracket racing 15 years ago and had progressed beyond. Her and her husband had read on the Internet that Gary and I were moving from Southern California to Minden, and sought us out at a race in Sacramento and introduced themselves. They said they lived close to Minden and wanted to be sure we felt welcome and that they were just getting back into racing after a brief hiatus. We have been great friends both on and off the track since then.

Gary and I returned from our trip on the East Coast and joined the many friends and family members that were in shock that a weakened artery could take our friend so quickly. Her husband knew her wishes were to celebrate her life, so we all sat round Tuesday and brought up many episodes and events that we had shared with her. Some made us laugh, many made us cry but each had us all shaking our heads saying “Yup, that was her”.

The next day I made my normal 36-mile trip to work in the morning and about quarter-mile from my destination, my check engine light starts flashing and the car starts to run rough. (Yes, for those who have been reading my blog, this is my Pontiac that I have been nursing for the last year. We really didn’t want to buy a new car right now, so we had been doing everything possible to get by with my Grand Prix.) I pulled away from the stop sign and my car suddenly starts to run better and I made it to work. I called Gary and told him what happened and to be prepared for a call that evening. Sure enough, I start the car and it’s running terrible, it gets worse as I see billows of smoke from the exhaust. I turned the key to off and called Gary for ride home. He arrived and made the quick diagnosis of a probable blown head gasket or cracked head. Gary then asks me if I want to clean all my belongings out now. Reluctantly, I do and we head back home. In the truck, Gary looks over at me and says, “I know we have been looking at new cars for you, and that you really don’t want a new one with the current drive you are making to work, so I had an idea.”

Our friend, who had just passed, had bought a new car a few years ago, and her husband had no use for it, so he was going to sell it. Gary called and asked him if he had advertised it yet, and he said he was just about to. “How about we buy it from you?” Ken instantly said ‘perfect’ his wife loved her car and loved Karen so it is perfect. I had my new (to me) Chevy Monte Carlo, by the next day.

As I sit here writing this blog, I have to tell you, I think I have a new angel looking out for me. Of all the places my car could have broke down and left me stranded, and it happened at work, and it happened when both Gary and I were home form racing. I think of the timing and it happened the day Ken was going to advertise his wife’s car. I then think of how I really didn’t want to buy a brand new car knowing that the roads I have to drive to work will defiantly put dings in it within the first month of owning it.

So here I sit, sipping on my coffee knowing that my recently passed friend is smiling as she knows her perfectly orchestrated plan to watch over her husband, friend and car was executed with precision. “Yup, that was just like her.”