Eight Point One Miles of Love on a Windy Evening

It’s been one thing after another.  For a long time.  One of those just when you think things have straightened out, something else comes along. 

I know.  Life’s like that.

So we’ve got a truck and a car.  We use the car for longer trips because it has better gas mileage, and we use the truck for big loads of mulch or big pieces of cut-down trees because it’s a truck and that’s what trucks are for.  It’s an older truck, so the gas mileage isn’t ideal, but it’s our truck and it’s paid for and we love it like family.  Like hard-working family that doesn’t complain.

Til now.

And it’s not like it was even complaining, really.  It just…wasn’t feeling well.  And we asked it to hang in there just a little bit longer and then we’d bring it to the truck doctor and take care of it.

I’m the one who’s been driving it mainly because Bill’s job is farther away and the other car is better on gas.  So I’ve been the one begging the truck to hang in there and just…oh…get me to and from work this one more time, please?…thanks, hard-working-truck-that’s-like-family.

It’s been a hold-your-breath (and-overuse-hypens) kind of month.  Good things on the horizon, but we’re not quite there yet…just a little bit longer…just a little bit farther…just keep going, we’re almost there…oh, and pleasepleaseplease don’t let the truck die.

Well, it didn’t die.  But it went into cardiac (sorry, bad pun) arrest last Friday when it decided, when I asked it to back out of the driveway, that it couldn’t possibly do that any more.  In fact, it kept rolling forward.  Sigh.

So the poor, ailing truck was dragged gently up onto a tilt-bed flatbed and hauled to our mechanic.  I almost took pictures, but I couldn’t.  Too painful.

It’s the transmission.  Of course.  Which we weren’t anticipating until a week or two ago when the worst stuff started going on with the truck.

But it can be fixed, and will be fixed, and we’ll be back to both vehicles again. 

But for now, we’re making do with the one.  Which mostly is okay, but last night I had to work AND Alex had baseball practice that had originally been scheduled for a different day but changed.  Anyway, Bill and the kids dropped me off, then headed to the field for Alex’s practice.  I’d call them when I was ready to be fetched.

But then, a couple hours later, when practice was done, my husband and kids showed up.  They’d brought me the car.  And after a little dinner break, they left – without the car.  They’d left that for me, so I wouldn’t have to call them for a ride later.

And they walked home.  2.7 miles.  At dusk.  In the cold.  And in the crazy, extremely strong winds that were blowing all of yesterday.  No hats.  No gloves.  No whining.  No (major) complaining.  An adventure, of sorts.  It took them about 45 minutes. 

Now, yes, it benefited them, too, because no one would have to come and get me later.

But still.  It was so cold last night – a huge change from the summer-like weather we had last week. 

It was such a nice thing for them to do. 

I am blessed.

Comments

[RoseAnn]

Aww. Just goes to show that the truck isn't the only member of the family willing to go the extra mile and hang in there for the sake of the others. Very sweet!

[Wandering Chopsticks]

That is so sweet.