Dad's Ute

If it's possible for things to hold memories or energy then this ute was loaded with them. My grandma ('Granit') bought the ute the year I was born. Every school holidays, we'd ride around in the ute, visiting the beach, doing shopping (loads of lollies!), or picking up hay for her horses. Since I was the smallest I'd land the famous middle seat and a knock in the knees every time the car was placed into second. 

When Granit died, she'd gifted the car to Dad which started a dispute between my Dad and his brother that was never reconciled. Six months before Dad passed, the ute was stolen. It was missing for months and the night before it was found, I had a dream about it being discovered. When Dad rang me the next morning, I had to tell him I already knew the good news. In between the months, the ute was stolen, Dad bought another ute and so when the old ute was returned he said we would do it up over the Christmas holidays and I could keep it. We never did do it up - he ended up dying the following April. When he died the ute was one of the first things I asked if I could keep. It felt like Dad was around me just by being it.

We used the ute for moving, for picking up second-hand finds, for doing countless dump trips to clear out Dad's house. After doing 1000s of kms I had the horrible discovery that the ute wasn't actually registered, so the keys were put away and it sat collecting leaves, outside our place. I let logic tell me about the pros and cons of keeping or selling it. It would need a bit of work to get it roadworthy and registered and perhaps I could buy a newer model instead. Over the weeks I found a peace with letting it go. This ute was made to be used and the saddest ending would be for it to sit idle until it stopped running. 

I gave the car one last clean. I went through the glove box and found Granit's original receipt and the sadness hit me. I sat and cried and then spent most of the day crying. Ben handled all the listing calls (so many!) and I'm crazy appreciative of that. At one point Ben asked me if he should pull the listing down because of my sadness. The greatest loss you can experience is death but the idea of letting the ute go felt like I was experiencing a further loss and a remaining connection taken away. The following morning it was sold to a wrecking yard. For some reason, I'd pictured the ute going on and living another life with someone. I've said sorry to Dad and I know it's okay, some events in life simply carry sadness.