You're never really prepared for these things. Especially not over the phone. The bride called her dad on Saturday to see if we could borrow the truck to haul some junk off to the dump. (By the way, this "junk" was recently adorning out home until about a week ago. Funny how things can go from "necessity" to "junk" in such a short amount of time.) I saw an odd look on the bride's face when she said "Oh, really?" I knew what that was all about. I felt the need to tell the girls, to let them down as easy as possible. After all, it's a father's job to comfort his daughters during a time of loss.
We all knew this was coming. Some had accepted it, others had held out hope that "Ol' Red" would miraculously heal himself and start running like he did over 16 years ago. It never happened. The bride's father had sold his truck.
Both daughters have learned to drive in this truck, so it holds special sentimental value to them. Loads of mulch have been hauled in that truck. Families have been moved. Boxes had been toted from one place to another. Wood and supplies had been picked up and delivered for home projects. Any time someone in the family needed to haul something, the red truck was available.
So it's time to break in a new "family" truck.....