Friday, July 16, 2010

"She is the paragon of paragons of beauty, the reply to all desires, the bliss-bestowing goal of every hero's earthly and unearthly quest."

It had been a long ritual. I cleaned out everything that meant anything to me. Under the seats, the buttons on the roof, the rosaries from Mexico and the Philippines hanging from the rear-view mirror, the clothing and camping gear and carpentry tools from the back, the Jesus and Mary stickers carefully lifted from the rear window using dish-soap and my bank card; even the small things like my favorite tapes which I had constantly played in you: David Bowie, Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra.

On Saturday morning we took that final drive and I spoke to you softly; the radio stayed off as I wanted to hear what you had to say to me. Your V-8, 350 5.7 purred and roared at all the right times, when I asked you. You have never let me down. When we pulled off the collector and onto Highway 1 East I opened you up wide and was willing to take any ticket, any punishment; just for you. I opened you wide and was hitting 180km by the time I passed Canada Way and we swerved in and out and I thought we would die together as we lived. You have been my shelter, my home, my work-horse, my escape-pod, my darling in white. I have driven with you through the Rockies and slept in your lap, I have worked to feed you the things you need. Your new catalytic converter and muffler, your new tail-pipe. I love you.
You hauled me and my small number of belongings through Alberta and into Vancouver to begin my new life in Canada. I worked you hard those hauling days. And you took me back through Alberta and back again to Vancouver, too.

As we sped toward your final destination, our last drive, I began to weep and shake hard. I pulled over once to explain death to you and I knew you might never understand but I did it anyhow and I just wanted you to know how much I love you; so much.

We pulled into the wrecker and I did the sign-off, tears running down my cheeks and a hole in my little heart. They had to ask me several times for the keys before I complied. They knew why I was crying.

I couldn't watch you being driven off but I did sneak a small look as you rounded the corner and I blew you a kiss and hoped to God that you saw it; I think you did and your tail-lights were gone.

I left my favorite Elvis tape in your cassette deck.

I left you a love letter in your glove box.



Anonymous said...

Whatever you are thinking, do not stick your penis in the tail pipe of your truck. You might want to take a night out on the town or something... I repeat, do not hump your truck


Sid Heart said...


Sid Heart said...

That is actually the saddest thing I have ever written. Wow. How heart-breakingly sweet.