Memorial day comes around once a year.
But hardly a day goes by that I don't think about the heroes of our day.
The men and women in uniform.
One in particular will always have my heart.
Papa was in the Navy. He died when I was 13 years old.
He taught me to laugh, to love, and to never give up.
He is my hero.
I've had a couple of really special experiences with him in the last six months or so.
The one I want to tell you about is about his truck.
It was pretty much the coolest vehicle ever-
a 1970 Ford F250..if I remember correctly..
I had a friend that would always ask, "What kind of truck is it?"
"I don't know...it's red."
He would laugh and shake his head.
This was the truck that my mom learned to drive in...She says she hated it.
(But secretly she really did love it.)
When my turn came around, I used it for all sorts of things.
At one point I drove to school with it every day...the gas was killer, but the ride was awesome.
I would just be laughing at myself the whole way-
my feet barley touched the pedals, and my arms couldn't reach anything.
I would leave school at one point almost every day to take a nap or do homework inside.
It was great for hauling hay and going to drive in movies with.
Papa was a people person. I'm sure he was laughing right along with us during those nights that we piled in the bed and watched the shows.
It was bad at starting though.
I don't think I ever had to have more faith than when trying to start that bad boy.
It took a lot of time and patience.
you had to turn the key in a certain way, while pumping the gas a particular number of times.
There was definitely an art to it, and even though I was almost perfect at it I prayed my most fervent prayers before trying starting it.
It took ALL the energy of my heart to get it going.
Faith is what fueled this truck...nothing else.
It got me from A to B. It gave me everything I ever needed.
Well. A time came when my family sorta peaced out of Hillsboro and didn't have a place to keep it anymore, so we took it to a friends property and kept it there.
It was nice to see driving down the highway, but it didn't ever get used, and that was pretty sad.
I thought about selling the truck before, and talked to my mom about it a little bit...
but I never really felt very good about it.
Then came October 6th, 2012
The announcement was made that Sisters could now serve missions at the age of 19.
I was thrilled.
I knew that it might take some time, but that I'd be in the mission field at the end of it.
I was eating dinner at my friends apartment just sitting and talking about all that had happened that day.
When I heard a voice. Clear as day inside my mind.
The sound filled my heart with love as it softly spoke.
"It's time to sell the truck."
It was hard to let it go when the time finally came.
But, like I said, Papa was a people person not only that, he was everyone's person.
I'm just here to help him spread the love!
So here's a big shout out to Papa for the continuous support in achieving my goals.
To all the men and women who have died to protect the land that I love.
To my friends and family serving the military, mission field, or valiantly doing what they can from home.
Ya'll are the best.