Today was the day I signed my tuck away. Joan was finally able to get her own insurance policy (thanks to me) so I was finally able to turn the title of the 2005 Dodge Dakota pickup over to her. It's been in her possession since she left home in December 2012. When I started working in real estate and got a mini van, about 6 years ago, the tuck became hers to drive most of the time. It was fairly new then, as we had bought it new in 2005, and today it has 99,000 miles on it.
I miss that truck, I've got to tell you. This was the first truck I'd ever bought and I do believe I will never buy another one. I only bought it to pull a heavy aluminum boat I had at the time and to take the trash to the dumpster when we lived in the country. That boat was was the prime suspect in the demise of the transmission of my 1996 Jeep Cherokee. Pulling it may have been too much for the 6 cylinder Jeep so I went and bought that truck, which has 8 cylinders even though it isn't a full size pickup. I eventually sold the boat to pay for some of my electrolysis.
Do I miss that truck? Sort of, but I miss the Jeep even more. I was never much of a truck kind of person, but this is actually a nice vehicle with a comfortable ride. It was nice having something with 4 wheel drive for that one occasion every 2 or 3 years when it would actually come in handy for me.
Thinking about losing this truck today doesn't make me shed any tears, but it almost does. I totally don't miss being the person I used to be. I don't miss being uncomfortable with myself and uncomfortable in almost every situation, or being in pain inside but there are some aspects of my old life that I do miss.
I miss living by the pond in the country. I miss the single wide aluminum mansion surrounded by fields of tall, thick grass that would sway in the wind. I miss the woods on the other side of the pond and the fields the farmers would harvest every autumn. I miss seeing the dogs running free in the grass, or going for a swim in the pond on a blistering hot summer day. I miss Joan coming to get me out of my room after dinner to go canoeing on the still waters of the quiet pond. I miss seeing the night sky brilliantly lit up by a million stars, and hearing the deep silence broken by the songs of frogs and bugs.
I miss working on the fish farm. I dream about it a lot. The hum of pumps running in the back echoed throughout the gargantuan aluminum building. I miss the explosion of each tank's 15,000 fish as they came up for their hourly feedings, breaking the humdrum monotony of the pumps' droning. I miss the solitude of running that place and the occasional camaraderie with some good hearted people. I even miss the smell of the fish themselves and their pungent feed. I miss playing with the chemistry sets and watching things grow up from eggs to full size creatures, sold and swimming out the door. I never named any of them.
Yes I miss certain things about that life, but mainly I miss that eight years living in the country. Joan really loved it too. There was something about being a country person that appealed to me, although I am not actually country folk and never will be. I can certainly see the appeal of it now, in a nostalgic sort of way.
That truck was all about the country. We bought it a couple of years before moving back to the city, but it was never happy once it left the peaceful countryside. It was lost here in the city, even though a lot of people in these small, southern cities drive pickup trucks.
Seeing little, 100 pound Joan driving this big truck is sort of ironic. It really doesn't fit her, and she may sell it eventually and buy a smaller car, but it is at least safe. The fact that she had a wreck in it recently and both her and the truck were unscathed is a testament to why it may be a good idea, and fateful, that this is her vehicle.
I guess it's normal to be nostalgic about certain aspects of the past. Spending time with Joan today brought back, yet again, some regrets about uprooting her life and destroying the painful pseudo marriage that we enjoyed together. You know, if we had 15 good minutes each day, along with another crappy 45 minutes, and 23 hours spent separately dreaming of another life, it was all worth it wasn't it? You bet it wasn't.
I enjoy missing certain aspects of my old life, much more than I enjoyed living them. I have to admit that I'm not completely over my marriage breaking up although it is a dream come true. Today's truck transaction was just one more nail in the coffin of a cadaver who's been dead so long it's rotten smell will make you gag. That's where the tears come from. Yeah, that's the ticket. Goodbye truck!!!
I miss that truck, I've got to tell you. This was the first truck I'd ever bought and I do believe I will never buy another one. I only bought it to pull a heavy aluminum boat I had at the time and to take the trash to the dumpster when we lived in the country. That boat was was the prime suspect in the demise of the transmission of my 1996 Jeep Cherokee. Pulling it may have been too much for the 6 cylinder Jeep so I went and bought that truck, which has 8 cylinders even though it isn't a full size pickup. I eventually sold the boat to pay for some of my electrolysis.
Thinking about losing this truck today doesn't make me shed any tears, but it almost does. I totally don't miss being the person I used to be. I don't miss being uncomfortable with myself and uncomfortable in almost every situation, or being in pain inside but there are some aspects of my old life that I do miss.
I miss living by the pond in the country. I miss the single wide aluminum mansion surrounded by fields of tall, thick grass that would sway in the wind. I miss the woods on the other side of the pond and the fields the farmers would harvest every autumn. I miss seeing the dogs running free in the grass, or going for a swim in the pond on a blistering hot summer day. I miss Joan coming to get me out of my room after dinner to go canoeing on the still waters of the quiet pond. I miss seeing the night sky brilliantly lit up by a million stars, and hearing the deep silence broken by the songs of frogs and bugs.
I miss working on the fish farm. I dream about it a lot. The hum of pumps running in the back echoed throughout the gargantuan aluminum building. I miss the explosion of each tank's 15,000 fish as they came up for their hourly feedings, breaking the humdrum monotony of the pumps' droning. I miss the solitude of running that place and the occasional camaraderie with some good hearted people. I even miss the smell of the fish themselves and their pungent feed. I miss playing with the chemistry sets and watching things grow up from eggs to full size creatures, sold and swimming out the door. I never named any of them.
Yes I miss certain things about that life, but mainly I miss that eight years living in the country. Joan really loved it too. There was something about being a country person that appealed to me, although I am not actually country folk and never will be. I can certainly see the appeal of it now, in a nostalgic sort of way.
That truck was all about the country. We bought it a couple of years before moving back to the city, but it was never happy once it left the peaceful countryside. It was lost here in the city, even though a lot of people in these small, southern cities drive pickup trucks.
Seeing little, 100 pound Joan driving this big truck is sort of ironic. It really doesn't fit her, and she may sell it eventually and buy a smaller car, but it is at least safe. The fact that she had a wreck in it recently and both her and the truck were unscathed is a testament to why it may be a good idea, and fateful, that this is her vehicle.
I guess it's normal to be nostalgic about certain aspects of the past. Spending time with Joan today brought back, yet again, some regrets about uprooting her life and destroying the painful pseudo marriage that we enjoyed together. You know, if we had 15 good minutes each day, along with another crappy 45 minutes, and 23 hours spent separately dreaming of another life, it was all worth it wasn't it? You bet it wasn't.
I enjoy missing certain aspects of my old life, much more than I enjoyed living them. I have to admit that I'm not completely over my marriage breaking up although it is a dream come true. Today's truck transaction was just one more nail in the coffin of a cadaver who's been dead so long it's rotten smell will make you gag. That's where the tears come from. Yeah, that's the ticket. Goodbye truck!!!
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