Truck

So I'm sitting on my bed, trying to make the hardest decision of my almost 20 years, do I sell my truck or not. pathetic, i know. But one has to understand my long history with trucks to understand my current conundrum.

I got my first truck when i was four, I should actually say i got my first truck(s) when i was four, because i got about ten of them. There's a great picture of me with all of them lined up in a circle around me. This was the basis for my love of trucks, i used to have them on my sheets, pictures on the wall, and about a million of them all around my room.

When i was nine, we took our first family trip to New York to visit my grandparents, as we currently lived in California. This was quite a turning point in my truck obsession. first off, my grandfather shared my truck love, as he had two great trucks. he had an old blue one, and his crown jewel, a bluish/green truck that he had since it was new. one of my fondest memories is going with my grandfather in the latter to get coffee and donuts or hot chocolates and donuts for me. little did i know this truck would have a greater impact than anything else in my short life so far. i also received one of my most prized possessions that trip, my father's old toy trucks. these metal, horribly unsafe, but cool set of tonka trucks were amazing. i loved them, even though i was phasing out of playing with toys. i brought home the whole ten piece set, and can see my favorite one on my dresser as i type.

after that trip, i started to forge my favorite memories with my father. he had an old 1977 ford f-100 custom, lovingly named "Big Bird", because of its yellow paint job. my dad used to make his short commute in this truck, and when he got transfered, it sat in our driveway, saved for weekend trips to costco. on these trips, i'd jump into the cab, fasten the old seatbelt, fire up the AM radio, and watch in awe as my dad shifted the big, old, four speed transmission. on special days, he'd let me sit in his lap and steer down our street on the way home. i will never forget that feeling, the bond my dad and i shared those days.

when i was 16, it came time to get my license, and my choice of car was far and few inbetween. it was either drive my dad's old chevrolet lumina that i HATED, or work for something else. i chose work, so i worked nine and a half days a week, six days a week for a whole summer. i finally saved up enough, and when it came time to find a car, my grandfather offered to sell me his pride and joy, the '98 as he liked to call it. i was estatic, and quickly bought it, and waited patiently for it to be driven down to me. the feeling of that first ride is irreplaceable. that truck, dubbed "old blue", was a staple in my high school years, always the truck that drew people together. many a memory was shared in that truck, and i wouldnt have changed that for anything.

back to that decision, keep it or sell it. i've been debating about if for over a year, and im no closer to a decision than i ever have been. as of now, im probably going to keep it, im just not done with it yet, and not in the right time of my life to buy a new car. i just dont know what to do, i wish someone could make the decision for me, but as in life, nothing is ever easy. who knows, maybe i'll sell it to my dad and keep it in the family, or drive it till it falls apart. life is a big river, who knows what you'll catch.