...a few thoughts, a little scattered...
I can remember the day I got my license so vividly. I was working at a horse camp and my Dad came to pick me up, took me for the photo opp and I was officially a driver, then I went back to camp. I got a new saddle for my 16th birthday, and also I got a truck.
A truck that had been passed through generations of our family
My Papa drove it
Sold it to my Mom and Dad
Dad drove it with all 4 of us lined up in the single cab out to ride our horses
Mom drove it when she went back to College and to run us around
Dad would drive it on Monday nights to go get the trailer, the horses and meet us for 4H
Dad drove that route in reverse after 4H practice on Monday nights
My brother drove it as his first truck
My brother re-did the engine his Senior year in Auto Mechanics class
The Heavy Half was my first truck
It gave me freedom and responsibility all in one
I learned character in that truck
Inside that cab a lot of my life had happened over the years
Behind the wheel I learned a lot of lessons
How to hook up a trailer and haul my own horses
How to get around town and to work on my own
How to fix it if it wouldn't start or needed a little oil
That truck taught me the same lessons I had while riding as a passenger.
Lessons taught by the generations before me.
I'm thankful I've known generations of my family, even beyond my Papa and the lessons passed down through the generations to me.
Even the most unexpected ones, like an old '79 GMC.
Today marks 4 years since my Papa left this life for eternity and I've been thinking about the generation that is leaving us, the stories and lessons and lives they lived, there will never be another like them. Perhaps they were the greatest generation.
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