Well...we decided to sell the truck. If you missed my post about this a week or so ago, here it is. It was the right thing to do. My dad would have been happy I did it.
But as I mentioned in my previous post, it was very difficult for me to get rid of the truck. My dad sat in that truck. He drove it around. There was this part of me that liked that at one point in time, he had been in the same exact place that I was sitting. Does that sound weird?
In the four years since he passed away, we have gotten rid of so many of the things that my dad was a part of. We sold the house we grew up in (and where he passed), we are selling the farm, the equipment that went with the farm...all these places where he once walked, sat, and just was.
I know it is good to move on. But I also appreciate and cherish memories. Sometimes, material items help those memories along. When memories start to fade, one day, I may pick up the last Valentine's present he gave to me and spark a memory that could have been long forgotten about where we were when he gave it to me, and how proud I was that he was visiting me in my first ever apartment... (it isn't yet, but it could one day).
I'm scared to lose any of the memories because they are all I have left.
Here I am, with the truck, the day we sold it.
I guess pictures help keep memories too.