Never put down your ability to care, especially in the face of another's or another thing's vulnerability. It's, perhaps, our most important gift, to others and to ourselves. When we share a part of our life with someone or, indeed, some place or some "thing", whatever we share w/ becomes a part of us. There's neurological evidence that it becomes part of our brain. I strongly suspect it's much more, as we have no way to measure the soul, nor are we likely to.

What you're saying is that the car was not merely a tool, some thing to do w/ carelessly, and then to discard w/o a thought or, more importantly, a care. It had become important in your life. Obviously, in your writing, here, you're anthropormorphizing it, making it as if it were human. That's b/c, I suspect, our language has no common way for us to let others know when some "thing", that's not specifically "alive", has become part of us, even a deep part.

This reminds me a learning when I was involved in a two year training, perhaps 20 years ago, with a gentleman who was half Native American. (I don't remember what tribe.) Once a trainer made a distinction between what's alive and what's not. Art spoke up, simply, but powerfully with truth: "My grandmother thinks mountains are alive."

I realized, then, so do I. So, by the way, does the great early naturalist/ecologist Aldo Leopold, in his wonderful essay, "Thinking Like A Mountain" (in his beautiful Sand County Almanac).

You think of cars as alive. Or perhaps more acurately, as participating meaningfully in life.

But I go on.

Hope you get better soon. Sorry I'm not around lj much. RL extremely busy.

All the best to you & yours,

avus