Growing up on a farm gives you plenty of opportunity to become familiar with mechanics and equipment. I’ve been driving since my feet could touch the pedals of a tractor, side-by-side or farm truck. I’m proud to say I’m probably one of the last generations of kids who learned how to drive with a stick shift. When I turned 16, driving wasn’t new to me, but my car was.
We found a 2006 Toyota Avalon online and drove to the neighbouring town to take a look one cold October morning. I remember pulling up to it and feeling giddy with excitement, envisioning all the places those four wheels could take me. We took it on a test drive, and though it smelled like the old man selling it, it seemed like a sound vehicle. I handed over a cheque good for some hard-earned cash and signed with my shaky 15-year-old handwriting. My dad drove it home since I was still a few months from getting my licence, but we parked it in the garage and I got to work "detailing." Apparently, the old guy had a cat because white hair was everywhere in that thing.
I grinned as I worked, wiping down the dash, vacuuming the seats and floor and spraying an unnecessary amount of ArmorAll on the upholstery. I stole my dad’s collection of Garth Brooks CDs and shoved them in the console, ready to rock and roll.
It was a long three months as I waited to turn 16, looking at that little silver car and imagining how much fun we were going to have. The day eventually came, and once I had that piece of paper saying I could legally cruise the roads, I hopped in my car and took her for a drive. At the time, I was pretty into The Office, and the simple little car reminded me of Pam Beasley, so I named her Pam. Our family likes nicknames, and we called her an assortment: Pamela, Spammy Pammy, Pamalisa.
If four wheels could talk, Pam would have a lot to say. She got me to and from school every day, drove me to work my first off-farm job and took me on plenty of off-roading adventures (you can get a lot of places in two-wheel drive). I had a lot of one-sided conversations with that windshield, shared a lot of laughs with a friend in the passenger seat and crammed a few too many siblings in the backseat to run errands a time or two. I burned a hole in those Garth Brooks CDs and wore out the Bluetooth transmitter I was gifted – I couldn’t drive 3 feet without having my favourite playlist queued up. As the kilometers on the dash accumulated, I grew up. That car drove me to and from cow shows, airports, concerts, parties and more. I graduated high school, moved to university, figured out how to live on my own, moved for a summer internship, started dating my husband, got married and graduated university. I said a lot of prayers and pondered a lot of life's lessons at that wheel.
I sold Pam a few weeks ago, and while I love my new truck, I find myself missing that little car and the memories made with it. Life goes on and I'll make new memories in my truck, but I think everyone's first car holds a special place in their heart. Pam will always be in mine.
