The Old Ford

We always name our vehicles and farm equipment, but the teal truck that dad brought home the year before I was born has always simply been referred to as the "old Ford." The guy he bought it from had purchased the truck new in 1965. The entire 20 years we've had it, we only put an extra 10,000 miles on it, but it pervades my memories. Whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed, I'll go sit in the cab and just breathe it in, letting the familiar smell make me feel completely at home, even though I'm already sitting in my own driveway. I'll picture all the times I rode next to Dad in the middle of the bench seat, shifting my knees out of the way as he shifted gears, playing with the two-way radio and giving weather announcements and flight itineraries. Every time we hit a bump the springs in the seat would squeak and send us bouncing. We did all sorts of things in that truck. After spending the winter in storage, in the spring we'd load her up with debris that needed disposing, or haul seed from the supply company to home. In summer, she took us camping. In the fall, we'd drive it outback and fill her up with firewood to heat the house. Whenever we'd drive through town, everyone would smile and wave because the cool thing about old trucks is that they make people happy. Then of course there were all the hayrides and joyrides. I saw my first shooting star from the vantage point of her bed.

I drove her for the first time a few weeks ago. I'd mentioned it to Dad that I wanted him to help me, and he said, "sure. The brakes should be working now." Haha. That did add a bit of excitement to the experience. Obviously, it was a little different from Harry. About 4 times bigger. Two less gears. The addition of a choke.

I rolled down the windows, blew the air horn, and drove it out of the driveway...and into the field. Dad laughed. Evidently, I need to perfect my wide farmer's turns. But it was okay, because trucks can deal with fields. We drove around for less than ten minutes, but I don't think I stopped smiling the entire time. It was one of those weird moments when you realize something happened and now you are all grown up. This time, you're doing the driving and dad's on your right instead of vice versa.

And those last two sentences right there are the closest I will ever get to anything that sounds like one of those sappy father/daughter songs that, no offense to anybody, I just can't stand.

As if the post hasn't made it obvious already, the Old Ford is now on the lot to sell. We held on to her for as long as we could, and no one wants to sell her, but you gotta do what you gotta do when bills need to be paid.

Not that my attitude is actually that matter of fact. It's really rather emotional (per this sentimental post I'm writing and making you all read), and I have to keep reminding myself that that truck will melt and burn eventually. Just like the stars. (Oops. Bad idea. I shouldn't have just thought about the stars being put out forever. That never helps me any).

I was going to do a genuine photo shoot with her and put up some shots like I did when I got Harry, but she got driven off to be sold a lot sooner than I expected, with no warning. So I could only dig out the one photo above to post.

But who knows, maybe of the 50 calls we've gotten this week no one will buy her and I can go ahead and do the photo shoot when she comes back and keep her.

(Yes, I already considered going to the bank and taking out a loan so I could buy her myself. But even though I just got a raise, I don't think my monthly income is enough that Rob would give me one. Plus, these blue eyes that come with the last name would set their alarm bells ringing ;-)