I am an idiot. Let's just
start this entry out with total honesty. I am a total, blithering
idiot. There you have it.
Mom's journal entry
today explained that an important part of my life is going away.
I knew that Alice was for sale. Dad's half-heartedly tried to
sell her a couple of times. I never took him seriously. He
priced it out of most folks' range. She'd be around forever.
I helped haul hay with this tractor. I could run this tractor
through any task put before me. I could pull huge logs out of the
deep hollers, knowing it was going to flip over, with dad standing on
the back behind me saying, "Keep her goin' Sis, you're doing
great!" I believed him whole-heartedly. I knew I wouldn't
flip over on Alice, and I trusted my Daddy.
I would haul hay in the 100+ heat, sick as a dog, because I had come
home drunk as a teenager. All I had to do is drive, but it was
punishment enough. What a rude awakening.
We had a family reunion this year. A kid wanted to drive a
tractor, and Dad had them all lined up in the pasture, so the shop
would be empty for eating and visiting. This small child picked
the John Deer, but I talked him into riding Alice. "You don't
want to ride THAT little thing...let's ride the POWERHOUSE!" I told
him. He bought into it, and we took a spin around the pasture.
The John Deer is fine. It's modern and handy and great.
Blah Blah Blah. I'll never accept it as Alice's
replacement. Never. I read that entry
and cried like a damn baby. My girls couldn't understand why I
was crying. I told them that it was stupid to cry for a tractor,
but that I couldn't help it. They said it wasn't stupid, and
Monica even brought me a roll of toilet paper to blow my nose, while I
sat on the back porch with a cigarette crying like an idiot.
I knew it was for sale. Mom told me it was probably sold tonight
when I picked up the girls. I was OK. I saw it in writing
on her journal, and broke down. Damn, I'm an idiot, but I warned
you of that when you started reading this entry.
I love you Alice. Goodbye.
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7 comments:
I would cry too
aw big girls cry too
Awwww, I don't care what anyone says....inanimate objects have a way of becoming part of our lives and memories. It was a special part of your life....time spent with your dad and Alice was just as precious as any other. So, I say, grieve your loss any way you want....thankfully you will have those great memories to cherish! ((((cotton-pickin hugs))))
I had a teenhood so much like yours!! I'd be recovering from a night of drinking/toking and then be ordered to plow, disk, fertilize, combine for a full ten hours. Maybe you and I are both getting to an age where we can look back on those times with a smile.
xo,
Russ
It's always hard to let go of the things you loved as a child. Bless you. - Barbara
Hey I understand where you're comin' from. If my father ever tried to sell the Nova, I'd resort to Grand Theft Auto (not the damn video game) to keep anyone else from owning it.
I totally understand. It's so hard to let go of some things. So sorry for your loss.
Lori
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