Today, my baby brother came and took my truck away. Ofcourse, I told him to. His crappy little Mazda finally died, and he neded a vehicle. I've been trying to sell Oprah for about 6 months now, to no luck thanks to the prices of gas. Oprah has been sitting at Kant's house, so I am certain everyone in her family was tired of looking at it. The truck need a new owner who would love her and cherish her the way I did.
Why do I call the truck Oprah? Well, she's big, black, and powerful...and also getting up there in years.
I was sad to see Mike drive off with the old girl. I was surprised it was still operational...but at least he knows how to work on her should she break down. Lots of memories with that truck: a romantic interlude in a parking garage at the Plaza, many trips down to the lake, piling tons of nursing school buddies in the cab just to go to lunch, a canoe trip, towing my boat after it was purchased...only to discover the brakes were bad when I was on the highway...ahh yes, the memories. Oprah...you will be missed.
At least I know the truck went to someone who needed it. I didn't make any money from it, I just gave him the keys and said "take care". I'm glad I could do this for him.
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Although the events of this blog contain certain truths, every attempt has been made to protect patient confidentiality. Names, dates, location, and identifying features have been changed or fictionalized for that reason. The author reserves the right to embellish to preserve people's confidentiality. All content is copyright of the author. Please do not reproduce or copy in part or whole without the expressed written permission of GB, RN.