The Dreaded Check Engine Light

My car's check engine light came on last night.  I drive a (I think...) 1998 Kia Sephia.  It's a manual transmission that my wife's parents bought her, then sold to her, then she drove it all through college, then I drove it after we got married.  After fixing a few things I think the car only cost something like three thousand dollars (my wife is sure to read this and correct me, so expect this dollar amount to change).  Either way, it's been a great car.  It's arguable that I learned to drive stick on here (I'd learned in a few other cars, but the Kia is really where my knowledge was tested and then honed into ability).

To say the least, it's been a good car.  My wife drove it from Salt Lake to Richfield all while we weren't married.  I've driven it to and from school for about a year and a half now.  I learned how to change the oil and spark plugs on her.  She houses the four summer tires for my wife's car.  I've laughed, I've cried, and I've done a good deal of living in her.  She's never been much to look at, but she's been mine.  My little area that no one else touched.  I could say whatever I wanted in that car without her judging me.  I could tell her about my problems and my successes without shallow construction or reality bringing relativity.  She could be counted on to not be counted on.  To not start when I most needed to get to a class, causing me to sprint to the lot where my wife leaves her car for car pool.

She's been good to me, and that check engine light made me think about it.  My wife has tried to comfort me "That light comes on in a lot of old cars for no reason.  It might be nothing."  Yeah, it might be nothing, but what if it's something?  She's ran well for over 100,000 miles, I look all the time and smile at the accomplishment.  I don't want to have to go looking for another car and try to whisper, "How many miles until you give up?"  I know they won't give me a straight answer, not the way the Kia did anyway.  I hope that it's nothing, but don't be surprised if I do another ode, an ode to a Kia.