"Dad, I'd like your truck when you are done."
I looked with surprise at my 12 year old son.
"What in the world do you want that for
With its faded paint and rusty floor?"
"Look at those tires. They're as smooth as my head.
"If it was a person we'd say it was dead."
All it is is a rusty Chevrolet.
The engine takes oil and the radio won't play.
That truck was new back in '68
And after all these years it's not that great.
It's a worn out truck that isn't any good.
I'll drive it in the trees and leave it in the woods.
Then I stopped and thought some more
And my mind went back many years before.
I remembered a time that I adored
Behind the wheel of a '63 Ford.
This was a car that belonged to my dad.
Oh, the miles we covered and the fun I had.
Why does my son want that truck so much?
Then I remembered his little hands with gentle touch.
It was more than just an old truck to him.
It was a part of his life and the places he'd been.
He'd driven it to Grandpa's and then to the field.
This 12 year old farmer out checking the yield.
An old truck and a young farmer out riding together
Planting the crops and watching the weather.
She was his first love, her name Chevrolet.
A match made in heaven I'm pleased to say.
And I hope there's a day when Richard has a son
Who says to him, "Dad, I'd like your truck when you are done."