I just realized that summer is pretty much into it's final run and I've acomplished a nothing. Well, atleast not what I wanted to do this year. I had so many things scheduled and so little time to do them. Way too many things took priority over something that gives me great joy. It all hit home on this beautiful summer night. A brief story if I may...
I was taking photos of one of my favorite subjects, (The Ford F100 seen above and in other areas of my site.) when its owner slowly walked up to me. He looked kinda puzzled. I don't believe he ever saw someone taking so many photos of his truck the way I do. The different angles and close ups ect. His response summed it up. "You building one?" In reference to all the detail shots I was taking. I chuckled and said, "I was just enjoying all the details his truck had to offer." He laughed and started to tell me all about it. I was amazed at everything he had done to it and things he still wanted to do to it. He was proud of her. But there was something missing in his voice. And then it hit.
I asked him if he would be around anymore this summer. More chances for me to be inspired. He wasn't sure. Since his wife had passed away he really was just still struggling along. You could tell in his voice that it hurt. But you knew he wanted to talk about it. And he did. His wife was 59 years young when she passed away from ovarian cancer. It hit hard. She had a check-up not even two years before. She went through all the treatments and was trying to recover. Then it had come back so fast and that was it. She couldn't fight it. He started telling me all the stats involved with women and ovarian cancer. 80% of women don't even know they have it until it's in its 2nd stage. Frightening stats. At this point I couldn't imagine the pain they went through or even the courage required to deal with this. Or even his courage to talk to me about it. But he felt that it was his duty to tell people about it.
The summers of the past few years have been brutal for us. Rain every second day. Couldn't do a thing. That's what made it even worse, that this year was so perfect and he had no one to share it with. She would have loved this summer. Then he started to tell me about the last ride they had together. They were to take a ride in his truck on one of the only nice days of the last summer. Everything was good and they were on their way. Then as fate would have it, a flat tire. These weren't just ordinary tires you could just replace, so onto the flatbed it went and day over. Ride cancelled. Small set back. There would be another chance eventually.
That was the last time they'd ever have at doing what they loved doing together.
That was was one of the most heart wrenching stories I have ever heard. But it was time for us to move on. I thanked him for his time and for his story. It was a hard story to take. It did hurt to listen. And I'm damn sure it hurt even more to tell. I admire his courage and his will to keep going. He knew he couldn't change what had happened but maybe he could for someone else by talking about it. He wasn't sure. Well, Sir...you sure did. It has touched me on so many different levels.
Thank you for reading this. This isn't just about taking pictures for me. It's about something more. It's a way of expression. Something needed to fuel the soul. We all have that something we need to do. In our own way. And realizing that I've been worn down by other things cannot be an excuse to put it off. Get out and do what you love. So... more pics of cars today? Maybe. But it's not just about the cars.
