Andy was getting his last looks at the semis that 2005 Sunday morning in the final moments of the St Ignace truck show; I was seeking shelter from the bitterly strong September winds. The cold did not seem to bother him as it did me, maybe he was getting some adrenaline from the moving rigs that I was not….. but at that moment wish I could have.
His sights set on two rigs, one being loaded onto the bed of the other, and my sights set on the spot out of the wind occupied by a lady watching the same action. I decided to join her small, somewhat protected, space and join her stance with hands pressed deep in pockets and arms held close to the body, buttons and zippers all fastened and shoulders hunched to protect necks from the cold. We watched Andy watch the two semis.
I don’t remember many of the details from that day in our early years of show attendances and I did not take any notes but I remember the appreciation she felt of Andy’s passion for those trucks. He let out more vocal appreciation more often in those early years than he does now, as I imagine he was doing that day. I also remember the one man team with those two trucks was her husband. He had positioned the flat bed and currently was driving the other semi onto that trailer. Andy was loving every moment of it.
The woman and I, we chatted a bit about Andy then she said the semi on that trailer was her sons. He was born in 1980, near the same year as Andy. She then shared this was their first year to show the rig on the trailer and it too was a 1980. I listened as she told of the son buying it, because it was made the year he was born, to fix it up and other plans he had for it. Then she said he could not finish his dream as he was diagnosed with leukemia and had passed before he could complete it. I suspect it took every bit of her strength to share all that without an out pouring of tears, yet I understood her need to tell the story as I found myself with the same need when Andy’s father passed a few years earlier. Her husband had finished by this time and was walking toward us which lifted the heaviness of the moment.
We chatted in between our teeth chattering and the man asked for our address to send Andy a coat. Within days we had the package. Andy tore open his mail and was in awe of the semi embroidered on the front and back. It was a likeness of the son’s 1980 Peterbuilt.
I have never looked at that coat the same since knowing the story the embroidered truck holds. That jacket is all the love of a mother and father stitched in the colors chosen by a son who left far to soon.
That day was a good reminder for me that everyone has a struggle of some kind. I know I have often gotten so wrapped up in my own I forget there are many situations equally or more devastating than my experiences. These days I only need to look at that coat for a reminder.
Andy has received a few coats over the years, thankfully each for a different season, but if that one is in the car, in case we need it later in the day, unlike any of the others he holds it in his lap for the entire trip. I think he knows this one truly is a special coat.
St Ignace Sept 2005
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