my father's truck
My dad was the kind of guy who always had the latest and greatest in tech stuff.
We had the fanciest television when I was little, I remember that it was a piece of furniture.
We were among the first people in the civilized world to have a microwave oven - and it was roughly the size of one of those dorm refrigerators.
Huge also was our first VCR. It was the size of a coffee table.
And my dad was known for purchasing the latest and greatest vehicle around, every couple of years.
He had Corvettes for many years, great hulking, sleek machines with enormous engines. I took my road test in one.
He had BMW's, sporty and expensive to care for.
He always wanted one of those big vans, with the venetian blinds?
He would gaze at them lovingly in the showrooms and my mother would signal to the salesmen and slowly steer him towards a Cadillac or Mercedes.
Months before he died, while living in Oklahoma, and flying my brothers and my family out to see him with great frequency, he made a leap and purchased an SUV.
People weren't really buying SUV's for personal use back then, but he wanted something luxurious (it was the Eddie Bauer edition) and big.
My mother was driving a big fat Mercedes, but he wanted something for us to pile into, with room for car seats.
When he died I told my mother that I wanted to buy it.
She was good enough to let me pay what I could for it each month (far less than it was worth) and she sent it to me via my brother B.
It nearly bankrupted us when it needed a new transmission early in its life with us.
It was far more vehicle than we would be able to afford for years to come.
It bore the scars of many mishaps...
the time I hit the side of the garage with the side view mirror
the time I tore the passenger side running board off it
the fender bender I had on the ice while 6 months pregnant
the fender bender Oldest had a few months ago
the time I drove it, with a bicycle on the roof, through the drive through at the bank.
And though I've had it for over a decade, it is still referred to as 'my dad's truck' even though he died not long after buying it.
Many are not sentimental about such impersonal objects.
But I am.
And now as it is being towed away, donated to a fine charity (and I cannot bear to think what will become of it) I am very sad.
As my dad would have said:
it doesn't owe us a cent.
He was so right.
We had the fanciest television when I was little, I remember that it was a piece of furniture.
We were among the first people in the civilized world to have a microwave oven - and it was roughly the size of one of those dorm refrigerators.
Huge also was our first VCR. It was the size of a coffee table.
And my dad was known for purchasing the latest and greatest vehicle around, every couple of years.
He had Corvettes for many years, great hulking, sleek machines with enormous engines. I took my road test in one.
He had BMW's, sporty and expensive to care for.
He always wanted one of those big vans, with the venetian blinds?
He would gaze at them lovingly in the showrooms and my mother would signal to the salesmen and slowly steer him towards a Cadillac or Mercedes.
Months before he died, while living in Oklahoma, and flying my brothers and my family out to see him with great frequency, he made a leap and purchased an SUV.
People weren't really buying SUV's for personal use back then, but he wanted something luxurious (it was the Eddie Bauer edition) and big.
My mother was driving a big fat Mercedes, but he wanted something for us to pile into, with room for car seats.
When he died I told my mother that I wanted to buy it.
She was good enough to let me pay what I could for it each month (far less than it was worth) and she sent it to me via my brother B.
It nearly bankrupted us when it needed a new transmission early in its life with us.
It was far more vehicle than we would be able to afford for years to come.
It bore the scars of many mishaps...
the time I hit the side of the garage with the side view mirror
the time I tore the passenger side running board off it
the fender bender I had on the ice while 6 months pregnant
the fender bender Oldest had a few months ago
the time I drove it, with a bicycle on the roof, through the drive through at the bank.
And though I've had it for over a decade, it is still referred to as 'my dad's truck' even though he died not long after buying it.
Many are not sentimental about such impersonal objects.
But I am.
And now as it is being towed away, donated to a fine charity (and I cannot bear to think what will become of it) I am very sad.
As my dad would have said:
it doesn't owe us a cent.
He was so right.
Comments
(We had one of the first microwaves, too. It was nearly as big as our first TV. Which was BIG.)
I like to think that your dear Daddy's SUV is being worked on by an enthusiastic high school auto repair class, and will have many year's life yet.
And YIKES about the car wreck while pregnant! I ripped a luggage rack off a fancy Chrysler station wagon (and pieces of the roof), trying to sneak in a downtown parking garage that I didn't have the key to - in my bosses' car! OOPS!
You tell its story well.
A good home is what you need to know and believe to make it true.
I'm sorry you are losing a little piece of him, again.
hug instead?
My thoughts are with you.
-Mr. Sentimental Car Wuss
love this post.
Wish I had a big garage for ya.
Our lives are ruled by so much reason; it's lovely to see sentiment hold sway.
I remember the roadtrip across texas to new mexico, backpacking.