My Dad loved a good deal. He loved trying to get a better deal on an already good deal even more. If you had a price, it was ALWAYS negotiable in his eyes.
So when younger boy child saved up enough money to buy his own vehicle, we made sure to tell my Dad. After a few weeks of looking, we found one on the side of the highway with a bright orange For Sale sign leaning in the window. A 1992 Ford F150 extended cab that I ended up called “the red and white”, but only after “the peppermint” was rejected by the husband and the son.
One Saturday morning, D and I took the twins to the movies with the understanding that my Dad was going to take Riley to look at the truck. We told them both to just LOOK … to not make any commitments or deals. We should have known better.
As we’re standing in line waiting at the movies, Riley calls and the first thing he said was “don’t be mad … I tried to stop him”. All I could do was laugh and right then D and the girls knew that Poppy had made a deal. Priced at $1,300 …. he paid $900 … and then told Riley that $500 of it was his graduation present and to only pay him back $400. Riley got a heck of a deal.
He drove that truck for several years and loved it dearly. D bought it from him about a year ago and Riley continued to drive it after his car was wrecked (that’s another story for another time). Fast forward to a few months ago when D bought his Grandma’s 1966 Ford Falcon and started investing time and money into that bronze beauty, which graces our driveway in such a lovely way <insert eye roll here>.
The “red and white” no longer starts and there really isn’t any point in investing more money in it. It’s just sitting in our son’s yard. We have nowhere else to put it. We don’t need it, but I’m really struggling with letting it go.
It’s another connection to my Dad. My head says I’m being stupid, but my heart aches at the thought of it being gone.
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