Water color, colored pencil painting 1947 truck in profile, S. MaceraI painted my one of my dad’s favorite trucks, a 1947 Ford.  It’s my all time favorite of the vehicles he has collected over the years.  I love the rounded nose, the circle headlights and the mirror that jets out like an arm or an exclamation point!

1947 Ford Truck Close up of hood and grill with mirrorMy painting was created in order to give a visual aide of an idea I had to park it in front of one of the flea markets my sister, mom and I have participated in over the years.1947 Ford Truck at swap meetWe rented a space and were fortunate to have permission to park it in our space to use as display and interest in our booth.1947 Ford TruckMy fondest memories of my dad all revolve around the automobiles he collects, admires or works to restore.  As a child, my parents loved horses and many of our truck adventures were in transit to care for, or ride a horse.  Many a country mile was driven on a washboard road to see a sway back plow horse named Dusty and a quarter horse called Rooster.

My most recent junker trip with my mom and dear friend. We pack a truck like nobody's business!

My most recent junker trip with my mom and dear friend. We pack a truck like nobody’s business!

My post this week is about just life and the many stages we find ourselves in.  I am in a very transitional stage, and a truck really represents that for me.  A truck means you are hauling.  If you are hauling, you are changing, building, creating or reinventing!Moving boxesYou need a truck to move, to shuffle, to explore and to dream.  I am moving my daughter in and much of my stuff to storage.  2011-06-05 10.58.36Some of my most important conversations with my dad, my mom happened in on, loading or repairing a truck .  Often while my dad worked on things in his garage, my sister and I sat on a tailgate and poked fun or asked important life questions.

My sister and I a few years ago... when we were young!

My sister and I a few years ago… when we were young!

In this photo – I don’t even care how cheesy I am. It was such an amazing day – I would love to be/feel that age again… 30’s were amazing, my friends!

1947 Ford and aqua picket fence at flea market

Last week was my mom’s 68th birthday.  To celebrate my sister, mom and dad and I had happy hour and pizza – just us four.  We talked about plans for an upcoming family vacation, a remodeling project my parents are doing at their residence – the woes of “working for a living”.  My sister and I swapped stories about our kids.

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Some of us girls, my sister, Jennifer, our Grandma Juanita, me, my mom and my daughter, Lauren…

We and laughed and knee slapped and laughed some more – wiped our eyes and grabbed our bellies and squealed in delight with the stories and the memories as we compared our lives as kids vs. how we are raising ours.

Floral bouquet, hydrangea and roseMy sister brought flowers.  After dinner we all sat at the computer and planned my parents most recent home renovation and new furniture.  Life just moves along.  My dad and I will be loading a truck this weekend to swap furniture between my mom and myself.  We are still, at 40, 42 and 68 – moving in and out of each-others houses and sharing furniture.

Maybe that is what I love about a truck… it brings people in need together, for a time.  Along the way, you figure some things out – brainstorm and dream of the future.

Whatever challenges you have in front of you this week, I hope you have friends, family and a truck to move you through it and on to the next phase!