As I was driving to the airport last week the odometer(里程表) on my truck rotated to 100,000 kilometers. This led me to pause and think about selling the truck and buying a new one, but it also made me think about all the life I'd lived in this truck, and how my bulldog had accompanied me in it, leaving me hesitating about selling it.
When I returned to Canada after nine years overseas, what better way could I fit in with and immerse in rural culture than by buying a pickup?
The day I rolled out of the dealer(经销商) and hit the first gravel road(碎石马路) in my Toyota Tacoma was exciting, until I got very nervous as rocks hit my new purchase. But all that quickly evaporated when I received my first call through the truck's Bluetooth phone. It was the doctor, to say that my Dad was hospitalized in a remote location. I immediately followed the truck's GPS and got there quickly and safely. I was with Dad for his last two days. And so the first memories of my truck are images carved in my heart.
As the kilometers of my life rolled on, Lyon, my bulldog who came back to Canada with me from France, claimed the back seat as an area belonging only to her. It didn't matter how short or long the trip was, she stared at me in the review mirror all the time. Most often, I would arrive at our destination and Lyon would stay in the back seat, bathed in the sun with the door open, knowing I would return. There was an overwhelming sense of comfort between us in that truck.
In the early days of truck ownership, I panicked at how dirty it became and any dent(凹痕) it put on. I soon realized, though, that it was part of the truck's character. Now I look at every dent and recall the story or adventure that put them there. I began to see it as character-building, much like wrinkles appearing on my face. The truck was simply aging gracefully and began, like humans, to display its experience and
wisdom.
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I don't think a vehicle is just for travelling from place to place. But as I approached the car dealer, I stopped. |
