It’s Just a Truck… Or Is It?

Hi Mom. How are you?

I’m fine.  Gorgeous day isn’t it?

Yeah.  We are just finishing up taking down our screen porch.

I guess we are all getting in the fall cleaning mood.  I scrubbed the porch cushions today.  I don’t want to put them away dirty. 

So went the small talk on the phone with my son Jonathan on Sunday afternoon. He sounded upbeat and I couldn’t help but wonder why he was calling me in the middle of the day, when our phone calls usually took place after the kids were tucked in. Until…

So I’m calling because I wanted to check in with you to make sure you are okay with me selling the truck…

Pause…. swallow…hold it together

The truck held many memories as it was my husband’s baby until he passed away suddenly six years ago. I gifted the truck to my son shortly there after.  Seeing him drive that vehicle brought me such comfort and joy.  I’d often sit in the front seat and be comforted by the aromas in the cab and sound of the engine. In that truck I’d be transported back in time to the many wondrous sights on our cross country trip to the great National Parks of the west.  We crafted the truck bed into our home away from home for the 22 day trip, with gear on the floor, and a comfortable mattress above.  Oh the memories we made touring the country in that truck.


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Of course Jon.  It’s been six years now and you’ve gotten some great miles on it.  Dad would be happy to know that you treated it with lots of care. Now it’s time to let go. And you need a reliable car for your family. When is all this happening?

Hopefully this afternoon.

Oh that soon! Well, take a few last pictures of the blue Tundra please! 

A few hours later pictures of Jon and his family sitting on the tailgate of the truck appeared on the family email chain.  A tear dropped down my cheek as the reality set in.  I told myself it was only a truck. 

Or was it?  To me the truck was a holder of so much more, it was the grand holder of memories.  Memories of times of adventure, times of laughter and joy, and times of love.  The truck held much meaning to me.  Yes… it was more than a truck!

One last trip to the mountains Dave loved


5 Replies to “It’s Just a Truck… Or Is It?”

  1. Your post caught my eye as my aunt was just telling me a story of how she tried to donate the van that she and my uncle (who passed from lung cancer) had many memories and traveled in. Each time they showed up to take possession of it she couldn’t let it go…. until finally a kind volunteer helped her to move on. Thank you for writing this beautiful piece.

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