Last Wednesday I accomplished a huge goal in my young adult life — I bought a truck!!!!!!
Weee! I’m just tickled to bits.
Bernadette is the name of my new used 2004 GMC Sierra 2500HD. She’s a 6.6L Duramax Diesel and she’s one big momma truck. She’s so perfect, and I’m glad I stuck to my guns and got exactly what I want.
I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t thank Cortney for helping me on my quest. He arranged his schedule so that he could accompany me to every test drive, showed me things to look for, gave honest assessments, shared in my excitement, and was general great moral support. He persevered when I was feeling discouraged, and he gets all the credit for finding Bernadette. I don’t know if he reads my blogs, but just in case – thank you again and again for your love and attention.
Since before I even had a driver’s license, I wanted a truck. Because every barn girl needs her truck! I’d burn with envy anytime a friend, acquaintance, even a family member acquired a truck, particularly when they actually had no actual need for a truck.
But I NEEDED a truck. Waah! (Cue my mother’s bizarre boy choir rendition of “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” that she blurted at me on a number of occasions as a child.)
The funding for my farm girl truck would not be lent nor gifted. And whilst I longed for wheels, I longed more to compete, and so that is where the majority of my “spare cash” was spent. Then, life happens, as it tends to, and trucks and trailers and new saddles and more horses and certain dreams go by the wayside along with all your hard earned savings.
Now I’ve been questioned at least once, and it wouldn’t be unreasonable for someone to think— “But why do you need a truck? You don’t even have a h—-”
And then you’d stop yourself because you’d realize that wouldn’t be a very kind thing to think.
When I lost Sam, my emotions tugged in several directions. I was devastated, for one, frustrated I couldn’t do more to help him, angry at the general unfairness of it all. And after the shock wore off, I felt more helpless, desperate, and anxious than anything.
After five years separated from Sam in my attempt to complete my degree and figure out a career, I was delighted to not only have Sam back last year, but for the prospects of getting back to eventing. We were both ready, but I failed him.
He didn’t get his chance again, and I feel like I’m pulling further and further away from my roots as an event rider as the years go by, despite being the editor at the sport’s stateside Association magazine. What?? The more time goes by, the more anxious I am to get back to it, and fearful that I never will.
A small part of me might have purchased this truck to fill the void Sam left behind. Another small part of me might have purchased the truck because “I deserve it, dammit!” But more than anything, I bought the truck because I vowed that before I became a horse owner once again, I would have transportation for my animal.
And I have to start somewhere.
So I started with my truck.