Oh Sad Day

The emphasis people can put on things amazes me, especially when I'm the person. Instead of the thing itself being so important, I just have to be thankful!

The Jeep is on the 'for sale' postings. How can a vehicle hold so many fond memories?

My parents' old Ford broke down at Castle Rock, CO. The Monarch had deep seats, allowing a child no vision other than parents, the night stars on long trips, power lines, and raindrops shining in the street lights some nights. I was so small in that car. I remember how immediately tall I felt as a 9-yr-old girl in the new Jeep Cherokee, looking out the windows and DOWN or across at other cars. Dad and Mom purchased the Jeep there in Castle Rock, used. It had been returned by a woman who didn't like the grease the tire rack deposited on her skirt when she unlatched it, so it had very few miles.

Memories from the Jeep are plentiful! We spent hours in the Jeep on multiple moves, our only dog riding in the back. One time we were bringing our dog Lacy home from the groomers and her big blue bow caught on the door handle, opening the door, as we turned. She was nearly lost.

We sprawled on the top of the Jeep some nights, Dad having drug us out of bed to witness special celestial events.

We took the Jeep 4-wheeling to Middle Fork Lake on Mt. Wheeler, a strain on both Dad, the driver, as well as the vehicle. I had bought in Red River a whistle that inserts into the tailpipe as a joke. He pushed and banged up the Jeep so much on the drive up there, it was VERY funny to put that whistle in for the drive back down. What had he done to cause such a shriek!? He'd stop the Jeep, check under the hood, start it back up, stop it....

I remember when moments with Mom became strained, we'd often just leave town and take a drive. The conversations in those miles were priceless. I also remember her teaching me to drive in the Jeep, starting off in a dollar-theater parking lot with snow blowing and geese standing around watching the show. Once we ventured onto the real roads, she bravely sat white-knuckled while coaching me through small town traffic.

I remember her and I taking a trip to Colorado from Kansas with our dog and lots of tools to fix up her and Dad's rental house. It had been sadly maintained. We repaired tiles in the bathroom, painted the entire inside, groomed the yard, replaced the garbage disposal, fixed shingles on the roof, holes in the walls.... I was amazed with her ability to learn and fix most anything. On the trip home we were caught in a storm with low, dark clouds in an eerie light that began to swirl over our heads. We watched many funnels swirl around us as we sped into the next small town to find shelter. We sat in McDonald's parking lot, watching the sky and lightening. That same trip, the Jeep overheated and the engine fried. We stayed there some time, waiting for a shop to replace it before Dad came and got us. Long trip! But we made it an adventure worth remembering fondly.

Driving it in Albuquerque on loan from Dad as I went to school was an honor. I felt privileged to be in such a 'cool' car. I had fun driving my friend Scott and his buddies around sometimes, sure that it was impressive to them. I thrilled to take off across the state on my own some weekends, camera around my neck, to the mountains, through the reservations, and to the Indian ruins.

It is one of the most generous gifts from Dad. After getting married, he gave it to us. It was our backup car, our storage unit when we lived in an apartment, and then a car to take my boys in to chase down hot-air balloons.

Honestly, I think our driving it embarrasses some as they see our family climbing in and out of the tired vehicle. If only they knew what an amazing adventure it has taken me on.... I'm beyond grateful.