Now many of you may not see the merit in this blog and admittedly I contemplated if I should write it or not with such considerations, for about two seconds.

Yes, it has to do with yet another young man (or woman's) rite of passage. I realize there are many and the one I am about to mention may sound ridiculous and unfounded in the bigger picture. However, it is one that occurred in our home this very week.

Yes, a sad day for the entire house, but only a few words were mentioned in it's after math. An icon of an era past has been removed from our midst. It was a reflection of a time gone by of memories, mostly of the favorable sort, of a loss of innocence, a time of juvenile pranks and questionable laughter. A time of street racing and hanging out in the parking lot on Friday nights until the cops chased them off.

If we're honest, most of us can and will relate to what I'm speaking of. As teen approaches their high school graduation there is a realization of the old passing away and the new having to be faced. There are many emotions around graduation and other such rites of passage, but there is one that is mentioned in a few songs but rarely spoken of in such a context.

Chad’s Big, Bad, Black, Ford Diesel truck has reluctantly gone to live in greener pastures. No, it wasn't wrecked, but Chad in his inevitable life course had to come to a point that most of us have to come to with our motorized first love. I know those of you who know Chad will understand that this is more than a monumental moment in his life. Kelly cried and Chad felt bad. And we all made light of her tears (including Chad). What else can you do? The tears are about more than simply a truck, but more of what the truck represented in all it’s years in Chad’s life.

I remember Sharell, bless her pointed little head.... The car she bought from us at a most reasonable price in the bigger picture of growing up. The car she felt Ron (who she calls Dad) had made possible for her and carried such deep emotion and meaning in so doing had to go away. And I do mean HAD TO... She too cried and fret over the fact she was parting ways with something of emotional value to her. Though it was of much less monetary value than the Ford Truck that Chad had worked so hard to buy and baby for the past several years, her silly old car meant something special to her. Or even Drew with the old blue Dodge of which he attempted to kill more than once; and so on.

So it was, last night I realized the significance in saying good bye to such old friends. I had to consider my own father who sold his Corvette after marrying my mother (much to her dismay). Yes, he showed up one night in a family car stating what he saw as the obvious necessity for his future life after marriage. I think Mom still regrets that decision on his part. LOL

Therefore, is it any wonder that as we face a new day around the farm without old Black that some deep seated emotion may begin to emerge from the depths of even my soul? This is the very truck that was even mentioned in my newly published book. The truck that Kelly before wooing Chad into finally being her beau used to run to the bank teller window to see drive by when she heard it coming a block or two away. Yes, this would be the same truck that found nearly every envious boy in school nearly hating Chad for owning. The very truck that carries the memories of Homecomings, Proms, Car Racing, Horse Shows, and yes, even the truck that pulled the horses to the Evergreen Parade and Rodeo Queen Contest when we were running incredibly late... Old Black came through and had us there just in the nick of time!

I only rode in it a handful of times, and drove it even less than that... One of those times was moving it to the front yard. Can you believe I even dared to drive it on my hard earned green grassy area to park it under the large shade trees? What else could I do, I had to protect it from a violent hail storm that hit the area that day. I suppose I could nearly write a book on the memories that include Old Black.

Old Black was more than a vehicle, it was an identity; the identity of my one and only biological son, Chad. In addition, it was a reminder of all his virtue, in spite of what others may have thought. I know, as does the rest of the family, how hard he worked to have it and what character and self discipline he showed at the tender age in which he made the commitment to purchasing and improving it. Though, many if not most are still thoroughly convinced he was a spoiled brat who's mommy and daddy bought this and any other number of things for, we know better.

I see the torch passed as another young man who has dreamed of owning Old Black will now be seen and recognized for not only who he is but what he drives. The legacy will continue as the truck is still mentionable, in a condition far from exhausted. Perhaps it will be a shorter time before yet another rite of passage is entered in and yet a new party will then assume the torch. In the meantime, I can only hope the new youngster will be as kind and loving toward Old Black as his predecessor and that it will be granted such opportunity to be passed on still again. I hope the memories and the meaning are even half as valued to him as they have been to Chad and the rest of this family.

In the meantime, I suppose the Kersey Policeman who found it his duty to patrol the streets with a watchful eye out for Chad and Old Black will live to find a new youth driving a new vehicle... And the rest of us will just once more have to deal with the reality that our once fair haired little boy is in fact, now a young man making very difficult and grown-up decisions.

Hope you enjoyed this little peek of our personal lives and that you all have a productive and blessed Friday!