• Various/Onna Carr

Hidden Candies, Corsages, and Life at the Height of a Steering Wheel:  Remembering Grandaddy Part 5

Post by Onna Carr

After Grandaddy passed away, Thor was sold again to my father, who used the truck to drive

around town and as a party truck to take guests for rides up and down the dirt road our three-acre

hobby farm when I turned nine. The kingpins then gave out, and he was always planning to fix them,

but never did, so now Thor sits in a spot under “my pear trees” as I used to call them, awaiting

kingpins to help him come to life again.

Sometimes, I wonder what "later" looks like? Will it be in ten years when my own daughter

slips into that dress and dances her own dance surrounded by those she loves and who love her at

five and that dress and the sad memories are redeemed into the light of a happy moment? Will my

grandfather's spirit sing on the breeze amidst the laughter of my children? Will “later” include Thor,

with new kingpins as I teach my teenage boys to drive stick because even though we are now “city”

people we are still country at heart? Can you ship a 1959 Ford truck overseas? Who knows? I

might check freight costs when we get closer to our departure.

Though Grandaddy and Gramsey have passed on and their land was sold off, the farmhouse

and the outbuildings remain in the family, although the house is soon to be demolished. No matter if

the original farmhouse is destroyed, or not, I will remember the house as it was with the familiar sight

of the "Gra-gras" coming out of their front door with Gramsey's trademark floral-print top and

"Woohoo" shout and Granddaddy's quiet steadiness as he stood beside her in overalls next to the

perpetual red geranium in the flower pot on the porch, waving hello or goodbye: a true Midwest,

"Nemaste" of sorts. Thor was there, parked in the driveway near the tire swing swaying from the

cottonwood. Thor provided an anchoring point of thunderous reference in the yard and etched

within my memory as if by lighting--never to be forgotten, just like my great-grandfather.

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