Friday, February 18, 2011

No pricetag for time well spent

Today I was out in the shed cleaning up tools left over from an oil change on My fathers Four wheeler, one of his most prized possessions, I remember going with him to buy it, telling him to pick the one he wanted as it might be the last one he ever bought, never thinking that it really would be. I at the time owned a racing quad, ran good and enjoyed it. Dad and I would go out and take rides together, we had a great time, but for some reason I felt the need to purchase one like Dads, so I did, I picked out the Model just above his and sold the racing quad, not really knowing why I just did, well instead of being light years up the trail from him I would only be a short distance ahead of him, riding at a reasonable pace instead of tearing up the land like badger digging for a rodent. This gave me more time with dad, more time stopping to BS about how much fun we were having, how beautiful the scenery was we were looking at, and more time just to enjoy all the same things. For the next two years we rode every chance we could get, and after dads injury and sickness kicked in, that time shortened a bit more each time. Dad liked riding his four-wheeler from his house with his dog, Zack and going for walks on my sisters land a couple miles from his house, but as he became more and more Ill, and I worried as he was not always in cell distance, I forbade him from going, for the sake of safety, he was devastated but he did not argue, which let me know it was the right thing, but I still tried to go for short rides with him. Then he became so Ill he could no longer ride at all, and all he talked about was that damn four wheeler, and how when he got better he was going to go riding again, and how him and Zack were going to go enjoy the ride together. Well he only got one more ride on it, after his stroke he really couldn’t see very well at all, but I let him go for what should be a short ride in the alley behind my house thinking I could just run alongside him, hell no, he took off, my mind raced with visions of him ramming into a light pole, and soon he disappeared from site, he came back and got an earful from me, but its always easier to ask forgiveness than permission.
That would be his last ride, and no as I closed the door to the shed, taking what little light trickled upon the four wheeler, I realized that there was no price on earth that ever could compare with the experiences we had together, and that no matter how much money I spent on a four wheeler I really didn’t need, it was some of the best money I ever spent .

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