LIfe is a speeding bullet, and we are just trying our best to hit the target. Move too quick and we miss the good stuff. Linger too long and we are left behind. Memories are what we keep with us, but it is often the things or items of these memories that prompt us to revist the good 'ol days.
I recently parted ways with a treasured friend of mine. Deep Purple had been in and out of my life since I was a little kid. She was a pillar of my past and a symbol of my coming of age in Emporia, Kansas. This beautiful, restored 1951 Ford F-1 pickup truck drove like a tractor, sounded like a trolley, and looked as if it should be adorned with holiday lighting and an evergreen tree in its ample bed.
I recall times as a kid when we would take the 2 lane highways to Council Grove in Deep Purple. 55 MPH would top out it's speedometer and I hunched low in my seat as we held up traffic on Kansas 56 HWY. But my father drove it proudly and I soon learned to ride with the same esteem in the passenger seat as we cruised around in that old truck.
I was the only sibling that learned to drive it, so as an adult I took over custodianship of Doc Joe's hobby. I took care of her and drove her for sport. It was endearing to others who saw me putting around town, and it always brought on a lifted pointer finger of approval, the way Kansans salute you in our humble state.
Recently on a breezy March evening, we loaded up Deep Purple and she rode off to live the next chapter of her life. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be because I lived the appropriate amount of time with her. Long enough to realize that I wasn't really suited to care for her the way she deserved. Someone who truly cares about her upkeep deserves to propel her on to the next generation of truck lovers.
But I still have the memories of that solid tank of a truck. Those are what really matter. In a new world where Americans love to collect more and more stuff, I struggle with anxiety when I have too many things cluttering up my life. Maybe 7 years of prison did that to me. Having so little and surviving has taught me that memories don't fade if you don't want them to. Collecting stuff isn't what I'm into now. I enjoy living efficiently with a plethora of memories to uphold my love for the world.
Deep Purple now thrives with her new owner, a NAVY submariner who has a background in mechanical engineering. He was stoked to get his hands on the truck and thrilled that it is in good working order with the looks to match. He could not have been a more perfect person to pass the truck on to. He will breathe the continued life into her that she deserves. Me, I'll keep the fond memories I have and not feel burdened by my lack of engine knowlidge that was hindering Deep Purple living to her fullest potential.
I have lived the good 'ol days and remember them well. Now I reside in the present and yearn to take on new meaningful projects going forward. I do not regret passing on the truck to another deserving person, but I will never forget her majesty.
LIve well, my fair lady! May you thrive in all you endeavors!