Saturday, June 30, 2012

the green truck


i know this is not much of a blog when i begin with..so much has happened since i last wrote..sorry..in my past updates i make the point that less is better.. for me..so really not much has happened anyway.. my mom's and dad's birthdays have passed.. as have mother's and father's day.. all was gotten through with relative painlessness.. as has become our custom (my husband's and mine) we enjoyed a variety of cream pies to commemorate his days.. and with the help of some friends my mom enjoyed both of her days..something that came to mind as these days passed is now normal it felt to include him and celebrate him.. death and loss is not something i have gotten over... by any means.. but celebrating him.. on his days..felt less cathartic and ceremonious as they had before.. instead. it just felt normal..so not much has happened.. but then why am i here.. blogging away? ok so something has happened..

about a month ago my mom called and ran an idea past me.. how about we sell the green truck.. ok back up.. this truck.. my dad's first truck.. bought in the early 70's.. the truck that took him to and from rodeo adventures.. the truck that took my mom out on dates..the truck that took us camping and on ghost hunts.. the truck we had planned to restore in his honor...the truck that we raced over to my uncle's house one day..just to hear it being started.. yes.. that truck

the truck was not being used nor fixed..and my mom's one income household was struggling a bit.. so how about we sell the truck? as you can imagine my first response was tears.. not something i wanted to even consider..in my head i was going to take that truck and restore it.. my brother and i would share ownership and we would once again take it camping.. in my head that truck embodied my dad..we ended the conversation..

about a week later my mom called.. how about we sell the truck.. by then i had thought about it and one thought kept coming to mind..this truck was just that.. a truck.. we held the memories within us.. they weren't locked up in this hunk of steel..and my dad would have never allowed his family to struggle.. he would have sold it himself without a second thought..my blessing.. although unnecessary was given.. if the truck had to be sold.. then as painful as it was.. it was going to be okay..

this past week the truck was sold..a day after it was posted on craigslist a couple came and got it..my mom explained the circumstances surrounding this not so easy sale..but more over she felt good about these people.. she felt that the truck was going into good hands..she even called to tell me it was done.. now this is an odd mix of feelings because her second sentence was.. start looking for plane tickets! i have not seen my family since Christmas.. and this summer i did not look as if i was going to be able to come out and see them.. so while my heart was happy.. my eyes told the truth.. i needed to get off the phone and cry... i am so glad that the truck went to good people.. and that it was going to be used and cared for...the way it should be..but i also let go of a dream.. i will never sit on that dusty seat and play with the radio.. i will never practice gear shifting in it.. i will never pretend to fix it laying on a little piece of plywood with rollers on the bottom.. i will never sit in the back and eat orange popsicles..and gone is the hard work i put into sanding down the tailgate.. gone is the time he and i spent draining the gas tank.. gone is the time we spent talking about what we would do to it.. gone is my daddy..

i have so many memories wrapped up in that old green truck.. like the time he put a bunch of us girls into he back and drove us into an old barn at night. just to scare us.. i made the mistake of allowing myself to be talked into jumping out..and off he drove without me..or the time he got a ticket.. for driving too slow..he said the truck was not meant to drive fast..and then cussed out the rookie police woman as we drove away..it had just one bench seat.. perfect to be cozy flanked between him and my mom.. and even when it was just us two i sat right next to him..who needed seatbelts in what felt like a safe and secure tank..
and i think that is why it is so hard to lose. that truck IS my dad..safe.. secure.. strong..slow moving and dependable..i can only hope that the people who have it now feel my dad's essence when they drive it..i hope they are surrounded by the many good times had and great memories made.. i hope in some way they get to know my dad through the truck..and i hope they cuss out a few police women and keep it slow!



2 comments:

  1. Thank you for this post. Your dad’s old green truck now sits in our garage and I’m so happy to be able to have it! When my husband called me to tell me about the ad on Craiglist he knew that it would be the one I’d want. We looked at many trucks but none fit the bill. As soon as we drove up to your mom’s home I knew in my heart it would be mine. You see, I’m the one who wanted an old truck. I wanted one with its original paint and wonderful patina. While my husband looked the truck over, I spent some time speaking with your mom. What a wonderful woman she is. I could tell how much she loves and misses your dad. Our discussion clinched it in my mind that we would take it home.
    I’m a sentimental person and feel so honored to read about your dad and your family’s life with the truck. When your mom mentioned that you blogged and had posted a picture of it when you were little, I asked her for your blog address. I hope you don’t mind me wandering through it. I wish I had the skill to write about my parents. I lost my dad to Parkinson’s in ’06 and my mom to cancer in ’09.
    We’re not planning on making big changes to that old green truck. The paint will stay as it is for quite a while and then, when we do paint it, it will stay the same color. With that standard transmission and granny gear I don’t think I could do anything but “keep it slow”. As for the police women, I hope I don’t have to cross that bridge but if I do I’ll be sure to throw a few cuss words under my breath in his honor.

    Erin

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    1. wow thank you so much for taking the time to find my blog and respond to it.. it surely does make it a bit easier to feel like the truck was meant to be yours all along..feel free to check in whenever.. i truely pray that the memories you make in the truck will be just as precious as the ones we have been left with!

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