08 December 2010

pick up

Almost eight years ago I stepped off of an airplane late on a Friday night and met my fiance, now husband, in the waiting area. He was standing behind a pillar towards the back of the open room, the same pillar he stood behind each time he met me for a too short visit. He greeted me with the same loving smile and hug he always did. The familiarity conitnued as we headed out to the car. I scanned the parking lot and could not find his car. I searched and searched as he walked confidently through the darkened lot. Before I knew it, he was stopped in front of a very large pick up truck.

He didn't. Oh, but he did. And there it was. A huge diesel pick-up truck. 

Now, as a girl raised in New Jersey I could count on one hand the number of times I had been in a truck. I was embarassed to climb into such a big vehicle and felt out of place. This was so unfamiliar to me. It was so big, and loud, and just different. Different from anything I had ever known.

I remember that ride home from the airport like it was yesterday. TED felt so far away sitting on the other side of this huge vehicle. When I told him how far away I felt he told me to scoot closer and ride "redneck". Needless to say, I was clueless but scooted over and smiled at this man I loved so much who was so at home in this truck. It was a part of him already, he just belonged.

With each trip I became more familiar and more comfortable, not with the truck, but with all that it stood for. It was a representation of this man I have chosen to walk through life with. It wasn't showy, definitely loud, but not showy. It was strong and protective, just like him.

Today, I find myself drawn to the white truck sitting in my driveway. It is a piece of my man. A quiet representation of so much. I find excuses to drive it. I strap car seats in to the back and comfortably take the wheel of this truck. Me in a truck.... without hesitation... by choice. I love sitting in that truck. It is my time with him, even when he isn't here.