No one drives Deb's car but me

Truth be told, I was never a fan of Deb’s car.

She bought it in March 2024. Deb loved it, I didn’t. 

The car just didn’t do anything for me. Another black Kia Soul in a sea of black Kia Souls.

It now doesn’t leave my side. And, as of last Friday, it’s mine.

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On Oct. 25, the day after Deb died, I learned the car’s fate: Call Kia, provide a death certificate, and someone would come get it, no questions asked.

That didn’t sit well. Deb’s car repossessed? I thought of the limited-edition Just Wright Citrus “W” decal she had attached to the left rear bumper.

“That ain’t going to happen,” I said. “No one is driving that car but me. I’ll buy it.”

And off I went.

Now. Everything about post-death decisions is confusing at a time when I can’t think straight. And, the one person I trust to help me with all this is no longer around. So, I’m groping through the dark, relying on the kindness of strangers.

The process started easily enough. I notified Kia of Deb’s passing and sent a copy of the death certificate. Told Kia I planned to take over the payments and transfer ownership. I aced a quick credit check and was now part of the Kia family. That took about one full week.

Then I began the paperwork that would allow me to register the car. Now, I’m not telling Kia how to do its job, but I would THINK that this process would be super easy since they’re dealing with people at the most difficult time of their lives.

It was NOT super easy. I’d fill out one form, send it in. Kia would respond with an email three days later saying I needed to add a period in one spot. OK, I added the period and sent it back. Kia would respond three days later saying, “Oops,” they meant a comma. Not a period. I’m being facetious, but you get the point. This went on for weeks.

Finally, I reached a point where Kia only needed to print the title and off we went. Kia said that part takes — no kidding — 30 to 45 days.

I had the car insured before driving it to Michigan in November. But I was still using Deb’s registration while waiting on Kia to dot the i’s.

You may be asking, “Why were you driving Deb’s car before it’s registered? Why didn't you drive your own car until then?”

And that would be an excellent question! Simple answer: I gave the other car away.

See, I figured this registration process would take a few days, not a few months. So, I immediately looked to dispose of my Chevy Malibu.

(I wasn’t sure what to do with it. The car’s paid for, has over 200,000 miles, and runs fairly well. I asked my mechanic, who is as familiar with the car as anyone, if he knew someone whose life would immediately improve with that car. He did. The recipient is a young man working hard to build a solid foundation. This was a no-brainer. Deb would have done the exact same thing.)

Ten days ago, I reached out to Kia once again to find out if someone could lift a finger to help. By now, Deb was gone over three months and I’m a little cranky about the car situation.

Mr. Kia told me it was shipped out the day before. What…the title? Yeah, exactly. Kia FedEx’d the vehicle title to the Citrus County Tax Collector’s Office. OK, look. I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed. What is the tax collector going to do when a Kia Soul title shows up with the morning mail?

This is where REAL customer service in my community shows up. I sent a frantic question to the tax collector’s office, and someone responded within 30 minutes with clear, concise directions. I provided a tracking number and was notified the next day when it arrived.

Early Friday morning, I sat at the Tax Collector’s Office waiting for my turn, hoping against last-minute glitches. An hour later, I walked out with Deb's Kia Soul registered to Michael Wright.

I had been carrying my old plate from the Malibu in the Kia’s trunk, with a screwdriver, for the switch. I swapped out the plates in the parking lot, then sat in the front seat.

And wept.

I cried like I hadn’t since those first few weeks. Tears of sadness, tears of gratitude. It all rushed back, way back to March 18, 2024, when Deb bought this car. It rushed back to the highs and lows that followed. It rushed back to her sickness, how she suffered. It rushed back to the joy she experienced driving this car, her little doggy Max in his car bed.

It rushed back to us sitting in her car at Tampa Airport waiting on her friend Andrea. Man, that was fun.  My JWC Facebook profile photo is from that day.

It rushed back to the shock of Oct. 24.

I found myself frozen in grief in the Courthouse Annex parking lot. Not a good place. I started looking through the car. Other than cleaning it, I hadn’t really moved any of Deb’s stuff. I knew there was a pocket New Testament in the console, and I grabbed it.

Deb used a Gideon Bible App card as a bookmark. She had underlined Matthew 18:11: “For the Son of Man came to save the lost.”

I wept some more, but drove home knowing that verse was meant for us both.

So, the car’s now mine. We’re getting used to one another. Bunny loves the back seat, and we go on long drives where I can tell she’s just happy being with me.

I drive a black Kia Soul in a sea of black Kia Souls. This Soul, though, carries a special spirit.

That’s why it’s mine.

Have a terrific weekend, friends.

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