Me and Amos
I drove that old car another 90,000 miles. Off to college with all my stuff and back home every few weeks with a load of dirty laundry. Back and forth all summer long to the grocery warehouse where I worked to pay for college. And on the weekends Amos and I would head north from the campus to the little country church where folks first called me "pastor." I have lots of memories of hauling kids to camps and retreats, a youth trip to Colorado Springs, and summer weekends at the lake. Still our journeys continued.
I vacuumed him out and hosed him off before I picked up Suzanne for our first date. And Amos was absolutely spotless, waxed by hand and shining like a dime, complete with new seat covers, on our wedding day.
My dad, also a pastor, was concerned before we got married that Suz might not be aware of the financial realities of a minister's life. "Does she know that you are never going to make a lot of money? Does she understand that you are never going to live in the biggest house or drive the biggest car?" I had to take exception to that. "Dad, I already drive the biggest car."
That first car is like a long lost friend, but we'll never be together again. I loved ol' Amos. I wish I had him still. Have you got a story to tell, that first car, that first set of keys? Let's hear it.