Ode to the "Man Van"

You may not have been real pretty but you served our family (& the special family that had you before us) well.

We may not have had you for long but you have hauled our oldest two to youth events & to their friend's farm many years before and you faithfully hauled our butt around town &, most importantly, to church this past winter.

You always smelled of 'farm' and grease and oil and, even though it got into my dress clothes, I loved that about you; that smell always made me think of my farm-living days, and I, for one, will miss your disassembled dash and your headlight switch that dangled just slightly to the left of the steering wheel.

Now, here you 'sit', having gotten just enough life in you to move from the spot I left your smoking, lifeless being, to make it into our parking spot (a constant burden reminder).


This is taken from our parking spot behind our house and down this back alley, just behind that green box at the back of the picture is where the Man Van could no longer be coaxed to move, where it gave up its 'life' violently with a bang and a huge, billowing cloud of smoke.



Just behind this building is the highway I was on, turning onto our street when the Man Van gasped its last breath and stalled only to valiantly coast to the beginning of our back alley before going no further. One can only know that it 'wanted' (tee hee) to keep me safe from any harm before reaching the end of its life (grin); the Man van was just like that - always giving...

Now it's time to move on and let the Man Van go. Maybe replace it with a 'rockin' mom mobile'. Nah, that just doesn't have the same ring as Man Van.