When I was asked to think of an object of importance to me I was sure I could not find a single thing. I have never been attached to many objects. I even asked people close to me and they did not have any ideas. My grandma suggested my work gloves, which I quickly pointed out that I had just thrown away because I would not need them at college. My sister asked about my childhood stuffed animal but that idea was shot down when I had to ask what its name was. I decided to try and find Cubby, and when I did he was stuck behind some old clothes that had not made it to the donation box and a tub of Legos. This debate went on for an entire weekend and the only product seemed to be things that I could not write about. Finally, my grandma suggested my truck, which I was hesitant about because I could not think of what I would write about for a whole paper.
I eventually settled on my truck, a 2002 Ford Ranger. My truck seemed to be the only thing that did not have a huge no come to mind immediately after it was suggested like the gloves or Cubby. As I look back over the time I have owned my truck, I realized that it has opened up a lot of opportunities and given me freedom to go places and do things that I could not have done otherwise. My truck has let me be more independent as well as become a better person. It has afforded me opportunities that I otherwise never would have been able to experience. It even became a get away from the stressful situations I experienced in these past two years.
After hours of driving with my parents and meticulously recording every minute of supervised driving time. I even spent a week of my summer taking a drivers education class my school offered so I could get my license on time. Getting my driver's license gave me an overwhelming sense of freedom. No longer did I have to ride the bus or wait for my mom to take me places. Not having to ride the bus was probably the biggest change I experienced. I did not live in the town where I went to school, so I had an eight-mile drive. The bus took a longer route. We would have a 30-mile trip every morning and afternoon over roads that had long been forgotten. The bumps in the road were so bad that when I was sitting in the back and we hit one I would hit my head on the roof. To this day, even in a regular car, I instinctively brace myself when I ride over those spots on the ride home.
The bus was a sort of extension of school, with all the rules. The bus driver chose the way home, how fast we went, and the music that was played. When I got my truck, I could choose the music I listened to and how fast I hit those dreadful potholes. The first few weeks after getting my license it was so freeing to be able to choose all those things myself.
My truck allowed me to be self-reliant. No longer did my mom have to shuttle me back and forth to practices. I could be where I needed to be without interfering with anyone else's schedule. My mom especially liked that I could drive myself to my scholastic bowl meets, because I often had to be at school by 5 a.m. for the bus. Being able to drive myself allowed me to join more clubs and activities. I would have never been able to be in National Honor Society without my truck. Meetings often ended before my mom got out of work so I would have been stuck at school.
People from church or in my neighborhood often benefit from my truck as well. It is not uncommon for me to get a call from someone moving that week and asking me to help. I always try to be there if I do not already have plans. I enjoy helping people, and my truck offers one more way I can do that. Being able to help people move or help them with work they needed done was a great thing that my truck let me do.
My truck also let me get a job. My first job was at a pumpkin patch that was over 10 miles away from my house. This meant if I could not drive myself I would have to quit. Being able to drive did not just benefit me but also a kid I worked with, Kyle was fifteen during the picking season and did not have a job. After remembering that I had recently been in that situation, I offered to take him to work after school. Although it was never a hassle for me, I will never forget his gratitude for that ride. It was his first job too, and he really wanted to work the whole season.
Having a job was great: for the first time I had my own money. Not only could I save for college but I could also buy things without consulting my parents. I later got a job at a grocery store on the far side of town. I stayed there for nine months and all but two days my truck carried me there. Those two days my truck was in the shop my mom had to drive me to work. This cut into her schedule and because I closed up the store, she would have to wait upwards of a half an hour just for me to get out of work. When my truck was fixed I was happy to have it back, but my mom was overjoyed to return to not having to shuttle me around.
Saving money for college became a big priority when I got my job. My parents explained to me that my truck was an investment and I was expected to work enough to make that investment pay off. I took this very seriously and rarely spent money on anything but gas. This idea of an investment made me appreciate my truck even more, for now I was entrusted with someone else's money and I had to make the most of it. I worked as much as I could to make my parents investment pay off.
My truck lets me go pick up my friends and go wherever we want. This social freedom let me get a lot closer to the people I went to school with. Being able to just drive down a country road and talk to your best friend is one of the best things in this world. Having no responsibilities for that short time is incredibly freeing.
My truck also functions as a sort of platform for social events too. We would always pile in on the Fourth of July to watch fireworks. As many as six kids were cramped in the bed of my little truck but no one complained, instead we just laughed more. If my friend and I were working on his uncle's farm, the tailgate served as a sort of kitchen table during lunch.
By far the biggest freedom my truck brought was the ability to freely see my friends. Before I had my truck so much planning had to go into getting a ride to a friend's house and then getting back. Now I can simply jump in the truck and drive out to their house. This opened up a whole new aspect of my social life. My mom never wanted to be up late waiting to bring me home, but now I could stay out late and come home when I wanted.
My truck also served a more serious purpose. Just before we were about to leave for college, my best friend and I drove down to the creek bank. We sat on the tailgate and just talked about where we thought life might take us. We spent some time remembering all the great times we had together, and I could not help but notice that most of them included the truck we were sitting on. We talked about the day we got out of high school for the last time and we threw our fishing poles in the back and raced off to the nearest pond. He brought up the time we drove out in the middle of a field and fishtailed all the way to the other side. My truck is like another person that experienced all these times that I cherish so much.
My truck is not only a place that I store memories but it is also my escape. Whenever I get into an argument or get frustrated I know I can always jump in my truck and drive. Driving has always calmed me down, but something about my truck relaxes me a little more. That calming aspect of driving has always helped me think twice before I did something I could regret. During my senior year, I was faced with a lot of tough decisions, like which college to pick. I was torn between Illinois State and Eastern Illinois. When it came time to decide, I felt so anxious that I drove the back roads around town and just thought and came back with my answer. I enjoy just being able to listen to engine hum and watch the fields fly by. That being alone but going somewhere puts me at ease.
Whether it is the freedom to hang out with friends or the opportunity to make my own money, my truck allows me to get where I need to be. The escape it affords me when I have a decision weighing on my mind and the opportunity to help others are all reasons why I enjoy my truck. My truck is not just an object that is important to me but it is also a portal to past experiences that I have come to cherish. Although I will have other vehicles in my life I will always hold this Ranger in a place of honor.