We've been trying to sell our 2 0-year-old SUV. Like most sellers, there are things we say about a used vehicle and things we don't say. When an interested buyer asked about mileage, I said, "It has 221,500 miles on it.
" What I didn't say was that I helped put a lot of those early miles on it with my dad when he bought the Ford Explorer, Eddie Bauer edition, two years after Mom died. One fall, Dad and I drove Eddie to see Dad's remaining brothers in Nebraska. Our last stop was Beaver City, w here his brother had been sheriff before retiring.
After a good visit and a lot of strong coffee, we left the next morning heading b ack to Missouri. Dad was raised on a farm and loved open prairies, lone cottonwoods and hot summer days. There wasn't another vehicle in sight on that straight-line road.
The sun inched over the horizon and spread a peach glow across endless fields. It was so beautiful that neither of us spoke. We just soaked it in — the morning, the beauty and the silence.
"You've sure had this vehicle a long time," the prospective buyer said. "We have," I said. What I didn't say is that we tried selling it awhile back.
We were on our way to a dealership to use it as a trade-in on a new car, but I got all weepy, so my better half turned around and we drove back home. "How many owners?" the interested party asked. "Just two.
My dad and us," I said. "He took good care of it, and so did we." What I didn't say is that when Dad was recovering from surgery for pancreatic cancer.
