We are gathered here today to remember the life of a friend that was once a very important part of my life: Isaiah “Izzy” the Great: the little blue Hyundai that could.
Though he was small and often referred to as a clown car or tin-can on wheels, he was strong and resilient. He was the trusty steed that got me to school and work, almost always in one piece. Through the treacherous winter’s of Michigan he pushed forth, only losing grip of the icy pavement to fish-tail through busy intersections on a few occasions.
It was in the Summer time that he truly displayed his strengths, not having to wait 20 minutes for his engine to heat up and give him the power needed to make his way up towering hills. He handled sharp curves with remarkable control, much to the amazement of his larger and less agile friends and fellow motor vehicles.
Though he was not as fit and healthy as others, he pushed through the marks of age, bravely undergoing a transmission transplant and multiple belt replacements in his final days. Though he was rusty and leaking from multiple orifices near the end, he uttered not one complaint and continued to be a faithful friend to the very last mile.
When he was taken in to the garage just yesterday, they said it was too late. I knew the time was coming near, but the news still came as a shock. But rather than mourn that he is gone, I feel it is best to celebrate that he lived. He was a good old boy, and I will always remember the times we had together.
Join me now, if you would, in a moment of silence as we remember the wonderful life that he lived.
He will be missed, but not forgotten. Rest in peace, old friend.